Folk Lore 101
by staceycj
Summary: AU: After the fire, the boys were take in by different families. They meet at Stanford. The hunt finds them.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: I know I have a few stories up and running, and they will all be finished. This was just bugging me today. It is a complete and total AU. Just thought I'd give it a shot. _

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Dean entered the classroom, stopped when he realized that he was the only one in the room, went back outside, checked the door, confirmed the room number against his schedule. "Yeah. This is the right room." He muttered to himself. He turned his left wrist up and noted that it was in fact 10 AM and he looked back down at his schedule and sighed. The class didn't start until 10:30. He rolled his eyes and looked around the empty space and took a seat near the front.

Dean decided to take Folk Lore 101 because he needed just one more elective credit. He had been trying to get this credit for four years now, but he just didn't seem to have the talent for things like pottery, or the history of hip hop or whatever else he had taken. Dr. Crumble, yeah seriously that was his name, after Dean had made his first, what he had thought of as a masterpiece, on the pottery wheel, clucked his tongue and suggested that perhaps it would be best if he dropped the class. True the pot was lop sided, and the glaze was thicker on one side, and that there were little Dean sized finger prints all over it, but that didn't mean that he couldn't be taught. His mother loved it anyway. She kept it. She put it on the living room table, and put flowers inside it. Mr. Crumble could just go suck his pottery wheel. So after his not so pleasant pottery experience he had looked at the courses in the catalogue and decided that this one was a class he was least likely to be informed that he should drop and also most likely that he would be able to pass with an A and keep his perfect 4.0.

With that thought, Dean pulled out his advanced computer engineering book and proceeded to read and highlight the chapter that he needed to have completed by tomorrow's lecture. He was studying intently, one hand in his hair the other rolling a highlighter in between two fingers, when he heard the door slam and he startled and sat straight up and a tall gangly figure entered.

"Sorry." Said the gangly figure. Dean smiled. He recognized the kid. His name was Sam. Dean had been the one to take Sam's group of incoming freshmen on a tour of the campus before the school year had begun.

"Sam, right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam frowned, unable to understand why exactly the star quarterback of the football team knew his name. He readjusted his book bag on his shoulder feeling nervous. He had spent the better part of this year feeling nervous.

"Dean, remember from orientation? I took your group around campus…got you lost." Dean smirked, sat back in his chair, pushed up his silver rimed glasses and smiled. Sam thought for a second and the remembered.

"That's right. That day was such a blurr."

"Mine was too." Sam took a seat next to the older man. "First days usually are." Dean added.

"I hardly remember first semester."

"I hardly remember my first year." Both smiled.

"I heard that you turned down an offer to go pro." Sam said trying to start a conversation. Dean shrugged.

"I have more important things to do. Football was just the means to pay my way here. I was smart, but not the kind of smart that you are." Dean said with a grin.

"What's your major?"

"Engineering." Dean said automatically. "What's yours?"

"Pre Law." Dean nodded impressed. "Why are you taking this class if your major is engineering?"

"Electives are not my thing." He laughed. "I heard that this class was pretty straight forward, that the professor made you read, and regurgitate and that was about it. I can do that. I can get an 'A' and call it even." Sam laughed.

"Yeah me too. I wanted to get all of the elective classes out of the way."

"I tried that. Didn't work so well for me."

The two spent the last ten minutes getting to know one another a little better while other students entered and found seats. With other students came noise. Dean didn't even notice it. What he did notice was that he liked the kid in a kid brother kid of way. Sam was smart, dedicated to his family, inquisitive, and open to new ideas. It was refreshing in someone his age. Most of the freshmen he had met were arrogant and acted as if that since they made it to Stanford they could cut it there. They also had this sense of entitlement that made Dean want to use them as crash test dummies.

Their teacher strode in, he was brisk and haggard. He didn't look like his profile online. The man set his notes on the desk and looked out into the room. Everyone, slightly frightened of the tall willowy man with three days worth of stubble on his jaw, turned faced forward and gave him his undivided attention. Dean turned to Sam raised his eyebrows and then gave his complete and undivided attention to their professor.

"I'm Dr. Elms and I am replacing Dr. Carter this semester, he went on sabbatical. So those of you who are only taking this as an easy class you may leave. For those of you who choose to stay, we are going to be exploring the myths and urban legends that have intrigued humans for centuries. Are ghosts real? Is there really something out there that can suck the soul out of children? How about demons? Are they real?" The professor looked out into the crowd of slightly frightened college students and laid eyes on Sam.

"You, there, with the hair that seriously needs cut." Sam's eyebrows shot up and Dean was slightly mad that this guy had said that to the kid. "Have you ever heard of a woman in white?" Sam shook his head. "How about Bloody Mary."

"I've heard of her sir."

"Well, in this class boys and girls, you are going to be hearing about a lot of these things. You will also get an opportunity to find one of these things. Take out a sheet of paper." Everyone sat in stunned confused silence. The sinewy man stepped away from the lectern and looked around at his students, and Dean thought he saw something flash in his eyes. "Chop chop children. You are taking too long." Students rifled through book bags and opened notebooks, and when the noise and shuffle died down the professor started. "You will team up with someone, and you will write a 20 page paper on a ghost, haunting, or urban legend. You will need to have a power point presentation as well, and you will have to ascertain three things. 1. What is the legend? 2. Where did it come from? 3. How to kill it and why the methods you choose will work.

"But professor, why would we want to kill it? It isn't real." Said a brave soul from the back.

"Get out of my class young lady. I don't want to see you again." She sat there confused and he made short order of walking to her desk. He grabbed it from both sides and leaned forward. "Get. Out. Now." She nodded and gathered her things and left. "Any questions?" he asked as the door shut behind her. Sam and Dean turned to one another stunned.

Class ended when the weird professor simply stopped talking, gathered his things and left the room. Dean shook his head and turned to Sam.

"That was the single most weird thing I've ever participated in." Sam didn't say anything for a long moment.

"I think this could be an interesting assignment." Sam said finally.

"Me too."

"Partners?"

Dean shrugged "Sure." Both gathered their bags completely unaware that a twenty page assignment was about to change their lives forever.


	2. Research

"Sorry, Dude." Dean said as he slid into the seat next to the gangly teen who was typing into the computer. "Coach held me up."

"No problem." Sam said almost absently. "I actually just got here. I pounced on the computer as soon as I saw it was free." Dean nodded and angled his chair to get a better look at what the younger man was doing.

"So how do we want to tackle this assignment?" He asked as he took his Folk Lore notebook out of his book bag, laid it on his lap, and pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

"Well, I looked up hauntings, and there are so many I wouldn't know where to start." Sam said pointing to the list on the computer screen. I thought about doing Bloody Mary, but then I heard the kid with the spiky green hair say that was what he was going to do. So honestly, I have no clue. What are your thoughts?" Sam asked and turned to the older man. Dean shook his head.

"Well, I guess a haunting sounds good to me. We could narrow the search down by state."

"California?" Sam asked.

"Nah. Let's do Oregon or Washington state. Let's take this out of California. Maybe we could do some actual on foot research." Sam turned to Dean.

"Really? On foot?"

"I'm all for researching and looking up stuff, but I'm an engineering major for a reason, I'm definitely hands on. Let's just pick something we can actually go check out. Get pictures for our power point presentation."

"Then why not do one in California?"

"Because everyone in the class is going to do one that is easy and close. So, we could make ours stand out and be different. Come on Sammy." Dean smiled. Sam rolled his eyes and laughed.

"It's Sam."

"Yeah, whatever dude." Dean laughed and put a hand on the mop haired boy's shoulder. "So, Oregon?" Dean asked. Sam smiled and nodded.

"So, Oregon." He typed into the search engine for hauntings in southern Oregon. The boys sat there in front of the computer for hours. They found lots of things, but none of which they thought were useful. Dean took notes while Sam looked through pages and pages of websites that boasted real information on hauntings in Oregon. Dean noted the web site name and what little information they gleaned from them. Most of them were bogus and were full of misspellings and crazy talk. Somewhere in the third hour, while they were chasing links regarding a haunting in a house in a wooded area of southern Oregon, Sam slammed his hands down on the computer desk and leaned away from the screen. "I'll be blind if I keep looking at this screen" Sam said and got up. "You give it a try for a little while, I'll take notes." Dean nodded and they continued chasing the tail of this supposed haunting. They were almost at a break through when the media specialist came up behind them and said,

"Excuse me boys." They both jumped. They looked at her and then at each other and then started to smirk. Dean looked up at the tired woman.

"You want us to leave don't you?" She laughed.

"Dean, it is time to go. You've been here for hours. You need sleep."

"Yes ma'am. We'll be out of here in a few minutes."

"Dean." she said warningly. Dean turned on his most charming smile.

"Two more minutes? Just long enough to write some stuff down?" She didn't seem like she was going to break, and Sam was hurriedly gathering his things. "Come on Gretta. You are my favorite media specialist." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Five more minutes and then you need to be out of here."

"Thank you!" he said and they both heard Getta mumbling about charming young men as she retreated.

"You know the librarians?"

"I've been here four years. I have spent more time here than on the football field. Yeah. I know them by name." Dean took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and stretched. He put his glasses back on and looked at Sam.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, go get some coffee and go over our notes." Sam nodded and stood and bent back trying to crack his back, back into place after hours of sitting and starring at a computer.

They arrived at the coffee shop that was just off campus and took a seat and each ordered a cup of black coffee and while they waited for their order, Dean took out his notebook and put it on the table.

"Okay, what do we think?"

"I think there are a lot of nut jobs out there in the world Dean."

"I'm more than inclined to agree. Thanks sweetie." He directed the latter to the waitress who brought them their drinks. She smiled and blushed. Sam ignored him after rolling his eyes at the older man. When the young woman who had brought their drinks disappeared back behind the counter, Dean turned his attention back to the younger man. "Well, from what we have gathered, this place is somewhere just outside of Chiloquin, Oregon, out in the middle of nowhere from the looks of the map we printed. And the house has been abandoned for years. It looks like the owner lives somewhere out east, and the locals avoid the house at all costs, saying that something is in there. One report said that they felt cold and then they felt like someone was trying to strangle them. But well, that report was from before I was born so who knows what that person was tripping on." Dean said and sipped his coffee."

"So, it could be a ghost, or just a bad acid trip. Is that what you are telling me?" Sam asked.

"I guess. But then we can't forget that newspaper report that talked about that girl going missing in the woods in that area. So maybe she found the old house, went inside and the ghost killed her?" Dean suggested.

"Come on. This is all just crap. You know that, right Dean."

"Well, of course it is." Dean rolled his eyes. "The girl probably got killed and eaten by some wild animal." He sighed. "But we have to humor this nut job we have for a teacher. If we think like this is a big joke than our paper will come out sounding like the same. So let's just agree right now to pretend like this is actually plausible, and follow the research, and see what happens. If nothing else it will be an awesome adventure." Sam sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah. True. Okay. So we'll pretend for the moment that perhaps this…" he stopped and smiled when he said, "ghost." He licked his lips and continued. "Took this girl and strangled her and she is still in this house. My first question is why exactly why would the ghost kill her in the first place?"

"Good question." Dean said and wrote it down on the next page of his note book.

"And then say if it is a malevolent sprit…whose spirit is it?" Dean nodded and wrote down that question as well. "And say for giggles that we go up there, how do we figure out if it is a ghost or not?" Dean continued to jot down Sam's questions. "Then say, we did figure out how to see the ghost and find it. Yay for us. Then what? We are supposed to figure out how to kill our legend or ghost. How in the hell do you kill something that is already dead?" Dean continued to write.

"Okay. I think that sounds like a good start. I say we make a trip up there this weekend and do some digging."

"What? This weekend?"

"Yeah, leave on Friday afternoon, get there by Friday night lay low and then see what we can find out."

"Dean. I have classes on Friday."

"Skip them."

"But…"

"Oh come on. Skipping one Friday won't kill you."

"How are we gonna get there?"

"I'll drive."

"I don't' know Dean."

"Sammy. Let's just do this. Let's have this adventure. Because for the rest of our lives we are going to be sitting behind a desk, making money, to pay the mortgage, to feed our wives and kids. There isn't going to be another time in our lives where we can go do something like this. What do you say?" Dean's smile and enthusiasm was contagious, Sam found himself smiling and nodding.

"Okay. This weekend. Let's do this."


	3. Place in the Family

Sam hurried to the off campus apartment that Dean shared with another football player. He knocked on the door and "Butch" as he was so fondly known answered the door.

"Hey Dean there's a dweeb at the door." Butch announced before he tore a hunk of salami off with his grinder like teeth and then chewed it with his mouth open, and Sam was privy to the whole disgusting mass being pulverized. Sam was even lucky enough to watch some of it dribble onto the massive idiot's face and shirt.

"He's not a dweeb." Dean called from the back of the apartment. Before Sam had to witness Butch eat anymore of the salami Dean appeared at the door and smiled at Sam. "Thanks Butch. I've got it from here." Dean said slowly and patiently. Butch nodded and lumbered away from the door. Sam raised an eyebrow and tried to force a smile as Dean exited his dwelling.

"You live with Butch?" Sam asked.

"Well, I needed a roommate, and he was nice. He was always funny and sort of interesting to be around, but that is before you spend 24/7 with him and learn that he really is just a not quite so intelligent slob." Sam laughed.

"Well, glad you noticed that too."

"The way I figure it I've only got a few more months to spend stuck with him, so it is all good. And he pays his half of the rent so I really and truly can't do too much complaining." Dean said as he navigated the two men to the black 1967 Impala.

"Wow. This is yours?" Sam asked running an appreciative hand over the trunk.

"Yeah. Some guy sold it to my dad for a song." He got into the car and unlocked the passenger's door and Sam got in. "And, well, the car looked like it had been through a war. So, my dad and I fixed her up. Took about two years. Didn't get to drive her until about two weeks before I came here, and you know the rule about freshmen driving. So she had to stay home." Dean started the engine and it grumbled to life and Sam found himself smiling at the sound. He had never been in a car older than him, and most certainly not one as well put together as this one.

"Where's home?" Sam asked.

"Well it's this little no name place in Texas. The closest city is Fort Worth. My mom and dad own a ranch out there.

"Wow. A real cattle ranch?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Was my grandfather's and will be mine one of these days."

"What do your brothers and sisters say about that?"

"I was adopted. I'm pretty much it."

"Really?" Sam asked with a smile. "I was adopted as well. I was about six or seven months old when my parents took me in."

"I was about four."

"Do you remember anything about your real parents?"

"No. Not really. I don't even look at them as my real parents anymore. My real parents live in Texas. My mom calls me every other day, my dad calls the days that mom doesn't. So I look at it as my family. I'd die for them. The other people who gave me up…" Dean shrugged. "They obviously just didn't want me. So, I just don't want them either."

"That's pretty much how I feel too." Sam turned to the window and watched the city fly by his window. "But don't you ever wonder if you have siblings?"

Dean shrugged. "If I do, then well, that would be nice I guess, but I don't think we'd have that much in common. Blood isn't everything. I could have a brother out there, but he could be a real jerk you know. Maybe he didn't get as good of a family as I did. Maybe he's a drug addict or something. Maybe my real parents kept him. Maybe they liked him better than me." Dean shrugged completely baffled as to why he was sharing all of this with a complete stranger. Dean never talked about his place in his family, or the lack of common blood running between him and his parents.

"I'd still like to know." Sam said wistfully. "I've always wanted an older brother, someone to teach me how to do things. Someone to have my back." He laughed. "I know I couldn't handle anyone younger than me. I'd kill them." Dean smiled.

"Ah, I don't know, younger siblings could be fun. Just think about all of the horrendous stuff you could do to them. Sit on them pin their hands and legs down, spit in their face. Tease them. Kick their ass in sports. But if you are the younger one all of that crap happens to you. I most certainly wouldn't want to be the one shit on." Sam laughed.

"You make a valid point there."

"I've just had so many friends who were younger siblings and I've watched what older brothers do to them. Haven't seen too many that would actually watch their brother's back. More like stick a sign on it that said they wore girl's underwear or something stupid like that." Sam smiled.

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"Nah. Just bored a lot in classes." Sam laughed out loud.

"I hear you there. I so hear you there."

"So, we should get there around 7. What do you think we should do first?" Dean asked turning the conversation back to their paper.

"I don't know. I guess we need to research the house a little. Do a little research on the legend of the haunting."

"How should we do that?"

"Probably talk to the locals."

"You think they'd be willing to talk about that?"

"I think so."

"I guess we could bring up the disappearance of the girl. We could always say we are family of hers and we are doing our own investigation and we just wanted to know what the local gossip says about her disappearance."

"I like that, that sounds good. I'll get some more information on that tonight before bed."

"Good deal." Dean smiled. Danger, subterfuge, and intrigue. This was going to be an awesome weekend.


	4. Salt

Arriving at the motel room the boys decided that it would be more economical to share a room, getting two queen beds, in a reasonably priced hotel. The man at the desk looked at them both oddly, sighed, and handed over two room keys.

"What do you think that look was for?" Dean asked as the boys headed to the elevators.

"I think he thinks were gay." Sam said with a sigh. "Men just can't be friends anymore."

"Guess not." The two rode the elevator in companionable silence, and when they entered the room both nodded at their accommodations. Sam went to the desk and hooked up his laptop.

"That is a sweet computer." Dean said as he put his duffel on the bed and looked for clean sleep clothes.

"My mom insisted that I needed new laptop when I went to school. I thought it was too much for a graduation gift, but she and my dad just wouldn't hear of it." Dean laughed.

"There are perks to being an only child."

"And to being adopted." Dean smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, the love gets spread around a little more. I'm going to catch a shower."

"Don't use all of the hot water." Sam said absently as he starred at the computer screen. The bathroom door clicked shut and Sam started his hunt for more information on the girl who disappeared two weeks ago. He was knee deep in information when Dean came out of the shower, hair dripping, holding his clothes in one hand and glasses in the other.

"Find anything?" Dean asked as he shoved his clothes into the bag.

"Yeah actually." Sam said and sat back against the chair that was incredibly uncomfortable. Dean sat on the bed behind Sam and put his glasses back on so he could see the computer screen. "This girl, her name was Amanda Taber. She is 26, athletic. She moved here after college for her job and her family lives in Iowa."

"So that should make it easier for us to claim to be her family, because the odds that they have seen any of them-"

"Is slim to none." Dean nodded.

"So, do you know anything else about her?"

"She liked to go hiking by herself a lot apparently. Her mother is quoted in one newspaper that it wasn't uncommon for her daughter to disappear for days and be off hiking in the woods. That was why they didn't realize she had been missing until her job contacted her landlord asking if they had seen her."

"How can you just disappear on your family?" Dean asked and shook his head. "My mother is always checking up on me. She usually starts with, "I know you are twenty-two and can handle yourself." Dean started in a falsetto that made Sam smile. "But I just worry that you aren't eating right. Are you eating right? Dean you can't be eating only take out. You are eating vegetables right?" Sam was laughing by that point and Dean rolled his eyes. "Then my dad will call and make sure I'm not just quote sitting on my ass unquote and that I am working out because, 'Son just because you finished your last season of football doesn't mean you should let your body go, a woman appreciates a finely tuned male body."

"I understand. My mother called my first week every single night, making sure I ate, making sure I wasn't staying up too late, making sure I wasn't partying. Because I didn't go to Stanford so I could party. I am going there to get a good education. Then my dad gets on the phone and asks me how many parties I've gone to. Tells me he'll send me some extra money if I promise that I'll go to a party and get drunk just once, because I need to loosen up, I need to have fun, get to know people, and not just have my head stuck in a book."

"Your dad is right." Sam's mouth fell open. "Did you go to a party?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Sam blushed and ducked his head. "Well, no."

"And what were you doing instead?"

"I was cramming for a final."

"Your dad is right. You need to loosen up some. Can't spend your entire four years here studying before you go back home. Where is home for you?"

"Nebraska."

"Yeah, then you definitely need to spend some serious time partying here before you go back to the corn state. There is a party next Friday night, why don't you come. There is a girl that I'd like to introduce you to. She's a freshmen cheerleader. Sweet as can be. You'd like her."

"I don't know Dean."

"What? I'm okay to go look for ghosts with but not okay to go to parties with? Dude your priorities are skewed." Dean leaned back on the bed.

"I'll think about it."

"You're going. That simple. Now go get a shower. It's my turn to do some research." Sam nodded and got up and Dean went to work on the laptop while the younger man took a shower. Dean bypassed the information on the girl and the house in general and started looking up ways of detecting ghosts. He was so engrossed in his research that he didn't hear Sam open the bathroom door, or go to his duffel which was on the bed behind Dean so when water from Sam's too long hair dripped on Dean's bare shoulder Dean jumped.

"Oh my God." Dean said and turned to face the freshmen. "Dude make some noise. Shuffle your feet or something." Sam smiled and looked to the computer.

"Salt?"

"Yeah, apparently it is a ghost deterrent."

"Salt." Sam repeated with both eyebrows raised and his face twisted in disbelief. "Like the salt you put on French fries?"

"Yeah that's what it says."

"Why?"

"Because it is a symbol of purity. It says here that that is the reason you are supposed to throw salt over your shoulder."

"Oh. And how exactly is that going to help us? What do we take a salt shaker with us when we go the house?"

"I don't know. Doesn't sound real useful. Oh look evil ghost, Sammy get the salt shaker. But that is what it says. And it says it in a lot of different places. So I'm wiling to believe that this is accurate." Sam nodded.

"How do we detect them? You know before they hurt us and our last resort is throwing salt at them."

"Says here that you can feel the area get cold, smell ozone, use an Electromagnetic Frequency Meter, or use a camera the energy should show up on that."

"We don't have any of that stuff with us. I mean we could do the cold and the ozone, but I don't know if I could identify the smell of ozone. So we would need the camera or that Electromagnetic Frequency Meter." Sam paused. "I wonder where you would find one of those. Think Wal-Mart sells them?"

"Beats me. But I guess tomorrow we will check out the town and the information about the girl who disappeared and see who owned that house before the current owner. That might lead us in the direction of who the ghost is."

"What are we supposed to do if it is a ghost? How are we supposed to kill it?"

"I don't know that part. I haven't found that information. I'm saving this web site in your favorite places."

"Okay. I'll look for the answer to that this week."

"I don't know about you Sam but I'm exhausted. All of that driving today wore me out."

"Me too. Plus we need to get a head start on the research. Who knows how long it will take us to get the information out of the locals."

"Okay. Sounds like a plan to me." Dean said and powered down the computer. He went to the bed closest to the door and pulled back the covers. "Night Sam."

"Night Dean." he said as he got underneath his own covers and turned out the light between them.


	5. Talking to the Locals

The diner in the small town was quaint and reminded Sam of home. He and Dean took a seat in a booth and it took less than a minute for a waitress to come over with menus. She was older and looked a little worn around the edges. Sam judged by her shoes and the spider veins on her legs that she had spent the majority of her years doing exactly what she was doing right this moment. The thought saddened Sam.

Dean gave the woman his most charming smile, and Sam watched the older woman blush. "Thanks Dolly." Dean said as he took the menus and handed one to Sam.

"You two new in town?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah, we are. We're just looking for the police station."

"Oh, there isn't really a station per se. The police chief's office is just off the library. We mostly go into town for big things." Dean nodded and smiled. "What could you two nice boys need with a police officer?"

"Our cousin Amanda went missing. We came up here trying to find some answers. Her mother is so distraught and she is afraid that the police have stopped looking and she just wants answers you know?"

"Oh I heard about that poor girl. She came in here the day before she disappeared. You boys had a very sweet cousin."

"She was one of a kind." Dean said and it sounded sincere even to Sam's ears.

"Did she say anything about where she was going?" Sam asked.

"Well, all she said was she was going hiking up along the river. I told her be careful, and to steer clear of the animals. I told her to stay away from the Anderson house."

"Not friendly people?" Dean asked.

"No one lives there. But around here, we tend to be a little superstitious. But you boys don't care about that."

"I want to hear." Sam said eagerly a little too eagerly he realized when Dolly gave him a strange look. "I'm studying folk lore at school, and I would love to hear the story." Sam clarified and Dolly seemed to buy it.

"Well," she started. "Story goes that old man Anderson didn't like anyone anywhere near his property, he would rant and rave about people hiking through his woods or near his property but his wife was always around to keep him contained. Well when she died in 68, Anderson became a complete and total recluse and that was when hikers started disappearing. People assumed that he shot them as soon as he saw them, then maybe ate them because he never came into town to buy groceries. And the people or their bodies were never found." She shrugged. "But this is a small town and we have to make up things in order not to be bored out of our minds. Mr. Anderson has been dead for decades now and I don't think he has anything to do with your cousin's disappearance. And look at me standing here jabbering like an idiot. You boys are probably starving. What can I get you?"

They boys made quick order of their food. Both were too excited that their little ruse had worked. They had grown up straight laced and honest and that made their little victory all that much sweeter.

The rest of the day, wasn't as much fun. The police officer was an idiot, they were both surprised the guy knew his own name much less anything about the law. The most he covered was the occasional bike, yes he said bicycle, theft and the drunk and disorderly. He had no information on the house or the girl who disappeared. They tried to get into city hall to get the information on the house and realized they had driven almost an hour for nothing; the place was closed on the weekend. Sam sighed and Dean laughed, they should have known that much.

So when they returned to the hotel room that evening both were tired and a little frustrated.

"So, you think this could actually be a ghost?" Sam asked as he put his coat on the chair and sank down into his bed.

"I don't think there is any such thing as ghosts, but we have decided to peruse this like there is. And it could be. Maybe the guy still captures hikers and kills them."

"Why would a ghost still capture and kill hikers? Shouldn't he have moved on to hell for being a murder?"

"I don't know. Same reason salt repels them. That still makes me laugh." Dean mumbled and laid down on his bed. Sam nodded.

"Okay, so we need to come back up here. We need to see that cabin. We need to have that EMF thing and the other supplies. Salt. I guess."

"If ghosts are real, and we do find one at the cabin. I most certainly don't want it to be close enough that the salt can hit it if I use the salt shaker. I think I want to keep it a nice distance from me."

"Any thoughts on how to accomplish that?" Sam asked.

"None." Dean sighed. "I'll think of something though."

"I'll start writing it up this week. The professor wants to see what we all have come up with by Wednesday's class."

"Okay. Do we share the salt thing? I mean it is pretty stupid."

"Well, I'm gonna say that we've found information to support that it is a valid way of getting rid of a ghost." Both boys laid there for a moment silent. "This is so weird. I'm going to write about salt in a college paper."

"No crap dude. No crap."


	6. Leaving for Texas

Sam and Dean attended class on Wednesday and Sam turned in their research notes, still a little worried as to what exactly a professor would say when he read the line, "according to several sources throwing salt at a ghost will disperse the apparition." Because God knows Sam had erased the line three times and then called Dean and made sure that he should include something so asinine as that in their paper. Dean had sighed and said that they had found the information and it seemed valid so just include it. So, he did, but he still didn't have to feel comfortable with it.

A lot of students had dropped out of the class, it had been a full class of thirty when they started, but now they were down 15, and two of them looked ready to bolt. Dean had overheard some people mention that they thought Dr. Elms was crazy, that they thought he actually believed in this crap. Dean thought the guy was strict, a little off his rocker, but he had to admit this was the most interesting class he had this semester. Where else are you going to learn about an evil clown that eats people, because really where in the real world can you talk about that stuff and not get laughed out of the room? Dean enjoyed it and he could tell Sam enjoyed it too, it gave his over analytical brain something to chew on all week, and Dean had to admit that he was really looking forward to their next trip to Oregon at the end of the month.

Dr. Elm stopped teaching again just grabbed his things and left, which indicated the end of the class and Dean grinned. He liked how eccentric the man was.

"Well I guess we're done." Sam said as he started putting his notebook back into his bag.

"Looks like." Dean said and put his bag over his shoulder. "You coming to my place on Friday?"

"I don't know Dean. I don't exactly fit in with your crowd." Dean rolled his eyes.

"You only fit in somewhere if you choose to fit in." Dean said as the two headed out of the room.

"What does that mean?"

"I play football, yeah so what, doesn't make me a dumb jock. I'm studying to be an engineer, but that doesn't' mean I spend all of my time with a pocket protector and studying math. I love to hunt, doesn't mean I'm some redneck. But I fit in with all of those people because I don't judge them, that's all that matters Sammy. So, come on. Come to the party. There seriously is a cheerleader with your name on it." Sam shook his head.

"You are incorrigible."

"Yes I am. You coming?" Sam sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I'll come." Sam thought for a second and then looked over at the older man. "You hunt?"

"I'm a Texas boy." Dean laughed and Sam rolled his eyes and the boys said their goodbyes and parted ways until Friday.

The party was better than Sam expected. Everyone introduced themselves and were nice to him, such a switch from high school. He had had friends in high school but well they were like him, nerdy and enjoyed reading on the weekends and going to go see the latest and greatest science fiction movie. They were definitely not the crowd that would go to parties or have girls over. Sam was the bravest out of the crowd and he had only asked two girls out, and dated them a couple of times before they found more interesting boys to hang out with.

Dean had pretty much taken him under his wing, made sure everyone was nice to him, given him his first beer, which he didn't drink, but accepted. And towards the end of the night a tall blonde came into the room and Dean smiled and showed Sam to her. He introduced her as the cheerleader he had wanted Sam to meet and she smiled shyly and she and Sam talked for most of the evening. She was smart and charming and he definitely wanted to get to know her better. When she got up to go to the ladies room Sam turned to Dean and he nodded to the younger man and smiled.

"So, you like her?" Dean asked as they sat down in their regular seats for Dr. Elm's class. Sam ducked his head a little and pretended to be too occupied getting his books out for class. "Oh come on Dude. You like her don't you?"

"Yeah. I do."

"When are you going to ask her out?"

"I don't know." Sam said. "Let it go man."

"Oh come on."

"Drop it. Now." Sam said with a serious face. "You said that you figured out stuff for our return trip to the Anderson house next weekend." He said abruptly changing the subject.

"All work and no play means Sammy doesn't get laid." Dean sing songed.

Sam fought a smile and was unsuccessful. "You are such a jerk you know that?"

"And you are bitchy today. So we're all good." Sam couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled in his throat. "But since you are such a kill joy I'll tell you my ideas."

"Oh ideas. You have more than one then?"

"Shut up." Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I think I can build an EMF meter."

"Build one? Can't buy one?"

"I looked. I called Radio Shack and everything. I was laughed at by three different places and the kid at Wal-Mart, I'm not sure, but I think was just a little high and wouldn't' have known that they sold shoes that were right next to his department, but that I guess is neither here nor there." Dean shook his head. "So I thought that I would just build one."

"You think you can do that?"

"I made the designs last night. I think it can be done relatively easily."

"Okay. So that solves the detection problem. What are we going to do if we actually find the thing, and it manifests."

"Manifests?"

"I read that they can manifest and become really dangerous. That sometimes if they are really angry spirits they can throw things at people and it can be really dangerous. Some can grab ahold of people as well. We need to figure out what to do if that happens."

"Well I read more about the salt."

"Salt. How dumb."

"Yes, yes Sam, it is stupid." He said with a sigh and an eye roll. "But, I did some reading and found that if we put ourselves into a salt circle we would be protected from it."

"But then we are forced to stay in one place."

"That is the downside."

"I don't know about you, but I don't really want to be stuck in a circle with nowhere to go and an angry ghost circling us."

"Me either. But I thought of something else. What if we fill shot gun shells with salt and shoot it at the spirit? Maybe that would dissipate the spirit enough that we would be able to get out with all of our bodies intact."

"You think that will work?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Who the hell knows really?" Dean sighed. "I'm gonna go back home this weekend and get my guns while I visit my parents and I'll bring them back. You wanna come?"

"Dean, that is like over a day's travel. You are really going to drive for a day just to spend one day with your parents and get guns?"

"I'm taking off tonight. I'm spending the weekend with them. I'm coming back on Tuesday."

"Do you even have classes?"

"Yeah, I just don't have any on Friday or Monday and my professor canceled the one class I have tomorrow. You gonna come?"

"I just can't keep skipping classes."

"Fine. I'm taking off at 8 tonight if you wanna come." The professor walked in and his presence shut the boys up.

Sam was standing next to the Impala that evening, a scowl on his face, and a book bag over his shoulder when Dean came out to leave for Texas.


	7. Meet the Parents

Anna Calhoun threw her towel down as soon as she heard the grumble of her son's beloved car. She hurried out of the kitchen and onto the porch and watched as her prized possession parked his baby. Dean was barely out of the car before he was enveloped in his diminutive mother's embrace.

"Hi Mom." He said with a smile. She pushed her son away and looked him up and down appraisingly.

"You look good." She said and reached a hand to his cheek and patted it.

"It's good to see you too Mom." He took his mother's hand and pulled her around to the other side of the car where Sam was standing looking a little gangly and awkward.

"Mom, this is my friend Sam Tomlenn. Sam, this is my mother Anna Calhoun." Sam smiled and extended his hand to the small woman.

"Pleasure to meet you ma'am. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here." She smiled and pulled the younger boy into a hug.

"We aren't formal around here Sam. Call me Anna. And any friend of Dean's is welcome here. My son is a good judge of people." Sam smiled.

"Mom is that beef stew I smell?"

"Of course. What else would I make on a day you come home?"

"Well there was that one time I came home and you made something that was green." She swatted at her child.

"That was one time, and we weren't expecting you until later."

"So you and dad eat green stuff when I'm not home. Man, no wonder dad always asks me when I'm going to come home." Anna rolled her eyes. "Where is dad?"

"He's on his way back from town. Needed to pick up a few things." She turned her attention to Sam. "You must be tired. When did you last eat?" Sam looked over Anna's head to Dean a question in his eyes.

"I honestly don't remember." Sam said. "I think I slept half of the trip."

"You actually were able to sleep through that blaring noise he calls music?"

"Mom. Come on AC/DC is classic."

"Classic or not, it doesn't need to be up so loud that your ears start to bleed." The little woman sighed and turned her attention back to Sam. "This kid started listening to that crap when he was 12 and the older he got the louder it got. I'm surprised he can hear." Sam smiled.

"I can sleep through just about anything." Sam said with a laugh. "But I don't think he played music the whole ride." Anna turned her attention back to Dean.

"Wow, my son being considerate. That is a first."

"Come on mom, you taught me to be a pleasant human being."

"I taught him." She said in Sam's direction as they headed up the stairs to the porch. "But that doesn't always mean he learned the lesson." Sam smiled and Dean rolled his eyes. Dean held the door for his mother and the three entered the warm kitchen.

Anna forced Sam and Dean to sit down, and she was just dishing the stew into bowls when Dean's father entered the kitchen.

"Smells good Anna." He said and put his hat on the hook next to the door. "And look whose here. My favorite son." Dean laughed and stood and shook his father's hand. "Who is this?" he asked extending a hand to the younger boy.

"Sam Tomlenn. Pleasure to meet you sir."

"Pleasure to meet you Sam. Logan Calhoun. Call me Logan." Sam smiled and nodded. The big man sat down next to Dean and the meal was dished out. Logan immediately asked his son about school and how his grades were, and Dean reported that they were fine and then he gestured with his spoon to Sam and included that the two of them were taking a Folk Lore class together.

"Dean what are you taking a Folk Lore class for? We didn't send you to school to take classes on things that aren't real."

"I needed an elective. And this one seemed like the only one I might have a chance at passing."

"Oh honey you remember his attempts at Ceramics." Logan's eyebrows climbed into his hair line.

"Yes, that weird thing that is in the office that my son claims in a pencil holder." Dean looked appalled.

"You said you liked it!"

"Well what else do you say to your child, who is obviously proud of himself that he came up with something." Logan shrugged and smiled. "Your mother and I puzzled over what in the hell it was supposed to be for days after you went back to school."

"I can't believe you two!" Dean said good naturedly. Sam put his napkin up to his mouth trying not to laugh so hard that stew came out of his nose. "You two said it was so awesome."

"Dean, sweetie." Dean broke out into a grin.

"I'm just playing with you guys. I know it's ugly." He laughed. "Which is precisely why I'm taking Folk Lore. I can memorize crap and regurgitate it on a test. No problem." Sam wondered for a second if Dean had told his parents about their project. From the sounds of it he hadn't. He knew that he most certainly hadn't told his mother that he was planning to go to Oregon and hunt a ghost.

"So, Sam where are you from?" Logan asked casually.

"Nebraska a little ways out side of Lincoln."

"I've been to Lincoln. It's a nice area."

"I'm partial to it." Sam said with a smile.

"Your major engineering as well?"

"No. Pre Law."

"Wow. Your parents must be proud."

"I like to think they are."

"Dean, why don't you take Sam out show him the area?"

"You wanna ride a horse?" Sam looked a little taken aback. "Oh come on, you can't tell me that you've never ridden a horse."

"I live in Nebraska, in suburbia. You do that math." Sam said with a laugh.

"I have so many things to teach you. Mom can he use your mare?"

"Of course sweetie."

"Come on Sammy. Every man needs to have ridden a horse at least once in his life." Sam stood and looked at his bowl and then to Dean's mom. Sam's mother had always taught him to clean up after himself.

"Go. I've got it Sam." Sam smiled and followed Dean out of the house. When the two adults could no longer hear the two boys chatting, Anna turned to her husband worry etched across her features.

"They weren't supposed to find each other."


	8. Parents

"Now Anna we can't go crazy here. The boys are just friends. They don't know they are brothers and they don't know what's out there. So it's not like finding each other will matter. Dean graduates in a few months, he'll leave Stanford, come back home and he will barely remember Sam." Anna rolled her eyes and hit her husband's chest with the towel in her hands.

"Since when have you known our boy to forget anyone he has befriended?" she asked. Logan sighed realizing that his wife was in fact correct, their son had a lot of faults, but forgetting about people was not one.

"What do we do?"

"We call Sarah and Adam."

"Do you think they already know?"

"I figure Sarah would have called if they did." Logan nodded. Anna looked out of the kitchen window ensuring that the boys were far enough away and picked up the phone that was attached to the wall and dialed the familiar Nebraska number.

Sarah Tomlenn and her husband were sharing a cup of coffee discussing the latest gossip in their small little town when the phone rang. She put a hand on her husband's, smiled and answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Sarah, it's Anna Calhoun." Sarah's face fell. They never called each other unless a major development in the lives of one of the children. She still remembered the call when Dean had been in a car accident a few years back. It had happened around the same time Sam wasn't feeling well and she had come within moments of telling her son that he had a brother and that he should probably go see him before he died, when Anna called again to ensure that Dean would be fine. But every time she called Sarah worried that something bad had happened to the elder boy.

"Is Dean all right?" she asked immediately.

"Dean's fine." Anna hesitated. "Our boys met each other."

"What?"

"Sam is here."

"No. Sam is at Stanford. Right where he should be."

"No, he and Dean are here. Dean is taking him out horseback riding right now."

"That's impossible. Sam has classes today."

"Apparently he skipped them."

"They aren't supposed to meet each other. I mean, we made sure they were states away from each other. They don't' like the same things, they are completely opposite people. How could this happen? They are four years difference in school, Sam is pre-law and Dean is engineering. They shouldn't even share any of the same classes."

"Well they do."

"How is that possible?"

"It's a folk lore class."

"Folk lore?"

"Yeah. They are working together on a project, and Dean has taken a liking to Sam." Adam was at Sarah's side by now looking worried.

"Sam and Dean met. They are at Anna's house." She said with the mouth piece covered up. Adam's whole body stretched with worry. "Anna, what do you think we need to do?"

"Well, it's not like either one of us can tell our children not to be friends, there isn't any reason. They are both well mannered well adjusted young men, and there is no excuse."

"So we let them continue to be friends?" Sarah asked.

"I guess so. I think as long as we keep them out of the game it won't matter too much if they know each other."

"But they were so adamant about us keeping them separated."

"That was almost 19 years ago. Maybe the threat is gone?"

"Do you really believe that?"

"I'm going to have to."

"Okay." Sarah said clutching the phone. "Okay. So, my little Sammy is safe?" Anna laughed for the first time in this conversation.

"Yes. He's fine. We'll keep them safe. We have the same protections that you do. He'll be okay."

"All right. Thank you Anna."

"I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you again. Good bye." Sarah put the phone back on the cradle and looked at her husband, worry etched into her features. "I knew that we shouldn't have let Sam go to Stanford. At least not until Dean graduated."

"We were asked to keep him safe and to not let him know we were keeping him safe. Some things can't be helped. But this isn't about what's out there. He just met his brother. If we don't make a big deal about it, he will never know. We'll just keep our eyes and ears open and play it by ear."

"I just don't want to loose my baby boy." A stray tear rolled down her cheek, Adam pulled her close and petted her hair.

"You won't. Sammy will be fine." Adam said out loud. Inside, he was terrified. Terrified that his little boy would get hurt, that the nightmares would come and get his son.


	9. Horses

_A/N: There might be another chapter up later tonight if this one does well LOL. No just kidding. I will try to get the rest of this idea out later tonight. This part was just driving me nuts and it needed out. So, here it is. Hopefully y'all will get more tonight._

* * *

Sam looked around as Dean led him to the barn that held the horses. Amazement and awe kept Sam silent, the ranch was breathtaking. It looked like a picture.

"This place is amazing." Sam mumbled as he kept stride with the older man. "It seriously is like walking straight back in time."

"I know. My dad likes it this way." Dean paused for a second and smiled. "Hell, I like it this way. My dad and I like old western stories. A cowboy on his horse defending everyone from criminals and evil. Must have been an awesome thing back then to be a cowboy. When I was young, Dad got me started on a coin collection."

"You have a coin collection? Here I thought when I met you, you were just another dumb jock."

"Thanks for that." Dean laughed. "Yeah, he got me started on mid 19th century money. I've got some really cool stuff."

"Your dad collect coins too?"

"Nah, Dad collects antique guns. He mainly collects old Winchester rifles. I love the story of the widow who was constantly remodeling her house because she thought that it was haunted by those who the rifle had killed. She kept doing it until the day she died."

"Maybe she should have just bought salt. You know, saved money on labor." Dean burst out laughing at the wry comment. He looked at Sam who was grinning and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Maybe she should have. But that doesn't make for as good of a story. Woman plagued by death of husband uses salt to ward off ghosts." He said using his hands to make it look like he was reading a headline. "Nah, definitely not as good."

"Is the story the reason your dad collects Winchesters?" Dean shrugged.

"I don't think so. He just likes old guns. He has this really cool old Colt. It is awesome. I've never been allowed to touch it, but he let me look at it once. I would love to get my hands on it and shoot it one of these days." Sam smiled and rolled his eyes. This star football player sure had a nerdy side that Sam would never have expected. Made him wonder if the football players back home secretly played Dungeons and Dragons.

"I don't really know what Mom was thinking." Dean mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"It's getting too dark to actually ride. I don't like to ride at night."

"Why not?"

"I can't see for one. And two, I really don't want my horse to get spooked and drag me along with it and me not see the rock that will be the cause of my early demise."

"Ahh."

"Yeah. But you can meet the horse you can ride tomorrow. She's gentle. Perfect for first time riders. She's technically my mom's, but dad and I ride her a lot, because mom spends way too much time in the kitchen." They came upon the barn a short time later, Dean introduced him to a man named Dale who pulled on the brim of his hat in greeting, and showed Sam around the stable. Finally, Dean brought him to a horse near the back of the stable. He handed Sam a carrot and instructed him to feed her so she knew he was friendly. Sam did and then the horse allowed him to pet her. A suburban boy like himself had seen horses in pictures and even in a petting zoo, but he had never really had the opportunity to see a horse like this, who was strong, and not beaten down by a life of letting children pet it in a zoo, or bored out of its mind.

Meeting Dean was affording him all kinds of opportunities. It was almost like having a big brother showing you the ropes.


	10. Riding

They went back to the house and Dean's mother fed them homemade apple pie and then sent them to bed claiming that since they had been on the road for over 24 hours that they needed to rest so they could go riding the following day.

The sun hadn't come up over the horizon when Dean shook Sam awake. "Come on Sammy. Mom will have breakfast ready in an hour and then we can go riding."

"What?" Sam asked bleary eyed. Dean smiled at the younger man's confusion.

"We get up early around here. Come on, get up, get a shower, and get dressed. I'll be downstairs." Sam nodded and Dean left the room. The rest of the day went quickly, quicker than Sam had ever experienced. Breakfast was huge and it included the ranch hands as well as the family. Dean and his father were obviously the bosses of this particular castle, and the hands seemed happy that Dean was back. After a huge breakfast, Dean's mother shooed them outside to "play" and Dean took him riding for the day.

Sam was introduced to every single tree on the property, every single animal, and every single person who had any connection to the Calhoun ranch. Dean was in his element here and seemed happy, it made Sam wonder why exactly Dean had gone to Stanford in the first place, it seemed like he would have been okay right here tending the ranch with his father.

After taking the horses back to the stable, got his shotguns and took Sam to the back of the property.

"Now, if I'm going to let you anywhere near me with a loaded gun next weekend, even if it is filled with rock salt, I want you to have some sort of clue as to how to use the damn thing. So. Sammy, meet the shot gun. Shot gun meet Sam." Dean handed a shot gun to the younger man and proceeded to show him the basics about gun safety and how to use the particular piece of equipment.

"Now, the recoil will shock you the first time. And it will be louder than you expect." Dean said. He left Sam with the gun and went to the fence where he lined up several cans. "Okay, you aim and then you pull the trigger." Dean demonstrated and shot the first can straight off of the fence. "Be careful that you don't get it too close to your face or you will end up hurting yourself." Dean said and helped Sam line up the gun and Sam fired. The shot went wild, scaring birds out of the tree that was next to the fence.

"Wow. I suck at this." Sam said.

"No. It was just your first shot. First shots are always the most difficult. When my dad took me out for practice the first time, the recoil landed me on my ass. Granted I was like 10 and didn't weigh much, but still I landed flat on my ass and not only did it hurt it was humiliating. Go ahead try again." Dean said patiently. Sam nodded and lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. This time he winged the can. "Better." Dean said appreciatively. "Try for the last one." Sam took a deep breath, concentrated and took another shot. This time he hit the center of the can and knocked it clean off of the fence. "Awesome. I think you could be good at this." Dean smiled and went back and reset the cans. They did this until it was too dark to see the cans. Sam was hitting three out of four cans on every try and Dean was confident that if they ran into any "ghosts" on their trip next weekend that Sam would be able to defend himself if he needed to.

They walked back to the house and Dean smiled. "You know, all I've done this weekend is run my mouth. I've shown you my family, told you stories all sorts of stuff that you probably didn't want or need to know." Both men chuckled "Now it's your turn. What do you and your family do?"

"We like to play board games." Dean's green eyes swiveled to Sam. He laughed at the expression on Dean's face. "We do! Scrabble is awesome." A smile lit Sam's features. "My dad and I like to go to baseball games. That was always the best part of summer, getting ready to go to the game, watching the game, and eating the hotdogs and just enjoying the feel of the crowd and hearing the THWACK of the bat against the ball. My dad and I knew the stats of all of our favorite players. We used to have arguments over who was the better player. I collect baseball cards." He laughed. "Now isn't that juvenile?"

"Hey. I collect coins." Sam laughed.

"You do win the nerd of the year trophy for that."

"Thanks." Dean punched Sam in the shoulder and smiled. "Sounds like you and your dad get along pretty well."

"We do. I have an awesome dad."

"Me too." When they reached the house, neither had the appetite for dessert, nor were they awake enough to sit with Dean's parents and talk. They went straight to bed and promptly fell sound asleep. Sam had never been more exhausted or sore in his entire life.

They got up early the following morning and stayed with Dean's family through lunch. Both boys needed to get back to school at a reasonable time, they had classes on Monday. Dean's mother surprised them with a home cooked meal for the road, kissed her son, wiped away tears, and waved them away. Logan and Anna waved for as long as they could see their son's car.

Anna turned to her husband, tears in her eyes. "I feel like something is going to happen. Something that we should protect them from."

"We talked to Bobby. He said all is clear. He said that Stanford was clean, he checked himself. Said that we shouldn't worry about the boys knowing each other. You heard him."

"I know what he said. I just don't know if my heart believes it."


	11. Show No Fear

The following Friday morning Sam was standing beside the Impala his arms folded waiting for Dean to emerge from his apartment. He had already knocked on the door and Dean's roommate told him he would be out in a minute, but Sam wasn't real sure Butch knew the difference between a minute and an hour. Sam wasn't real sure Butch knew how to tell time either. Sometimes scholarships were handed out simply because you could hold a football and run towards the goal line. Doing that didn't always require an active brain. He saw the door open and Dean hurry out of it and close it behind him.

"Sorry." Dean said with a sigh. "The idiot in there took my alarm clock, I don't know what he was doing with it. I think he was either drunk or high, not sure. I'm positive that I don't want to know. That much is for sure." Dean unlocked his side, got in, unlocked Sam's side, and Sam joined him inside. "Thank God this is the last semester I have to deal with him. Two years now. Man, I still don't understand him."

"Why do you share an apartment with him?" Dean started the car, rested his hands in his lap and looked deep in thought.

"You know that is a great question that I don't have an answer for." He put the car into gear. "Stupid I guess?" Sam laughed.

"So you said you made something? The EMF reader?" Dean nodded.

"Yeah, it's in my bag, behind you." Sam reached behind and pulled Dean's satchel from the back seat. "It's in the big pocket." Sam undid the pocket and looked for something that he thought was an EMF reader under the clothes and shoes.

"All I see is a walk man."

"That's it."

"What?"

"I made it out of an old walk man." Sam pulled it from the satchel and examined it.

"Does it work?"

"Of course it works."

"Find a ghost with it?"

"No."

"Then how do you know it works?"

"There are other things in this world Sam that give off EMF."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Huh." Sam said looking at the device. "So, how do I turn it on?"

"Press play." Sam raised an eyebrow. Dean looked over just long enough to catch it and he gave a frustrated sigh. "Don't say it Sam."

"So I press play….and what happens?"

"It reads the Electromagnetic Frequencies in the area. It registers as a high pitched sound that will come through the earphones. The louder and more intense the sound, the higher the amount in the area. And just in case we loose the ear phones to some sort of monster malfunction, it has lights on the top that will all turn red if the reading is strong." Sam nodded. "You can try it if you want."

"Nah I'm good."

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Sam said quickly and put the meter back into Dean's satchel.

"Spill it."

"Nothing."

"Sam."

"Dean."

"Sam." The reason hit Dean so hard he almost had to pull over. "You're scared."

"I am not." Sam said without making eye contact. Dean made a gruff laugh.

"You are too. You're afraid that you're gonna turn that thing on and it is going to go crazy." Sam simply sighed. Dean looked at the younger man for a moment and then pulled the car off to the side of the road.

"Why'd we stop?" Sam asked.

"If you are scared then maybe we should just go back."

"No. I never said I wanted to go back."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive. Let's get going."

"Sam if you have any doubt…"

"Dean. Just move. I want to do this." He reached back inside for the EMF reader, made a great exaggerated show of taking it out and pressing play. Only one light turned on. Sam would never admit to just how happy that made him. Truth be told he was nervous. Sam was starting to worry that they might actually find something. The more Sam read up on this stuff the more he was beginning to think that someone out there knew something more about this than Sylvia Brown and other daytime show psychics. There was just too much information out there that agreed on certain things.

Dean pulled the car back onto the road and Sam sighed to himself. He hoped that the salt guns he and Dean had prepared the other day would really work. He looked over at the older man and he looked confident and ready. That confidence was contagious, and for some reason Sam wanted to prove his worth to this man that he barely knew. There wasn't room for doubt or fear on this particular hunt. Sam took a deep and calming breath, ghosts be damned, they didn't stand a chance against them.

Sam held onto that thought the entire drive to Oregon.


	12. It Smells Like Death

They stayed in the same hotel as the last time they headed to Oregon. Dean woke Sam up early and made sure they ate a healthy breakfast before slogging through the woods. They had no clue exactly how long it would take to hike out to this guy's house. No one in town seemed to know EXACTLY where this guy lived, they all had an approximate idea, but no one had actually been out there in decades.

Dean parked the car by the edge of the woods and looked at Sam, took a deep breath, "You ready kid?"

"As ready as I'll ever be to go through a forest with no real clue as to where I'm going."

"Just look at it like corn stalks." Dean said getting out of the car. Sam followed suit.

"What?"

"You come from a state that boasts corn right."

"Sure?" Sam said not following Dean's train of thought.

"Didn't you go into the fields and get lost for fun?"

"Why in the hell would I do that? You ever been trapped in a corn field when the corn is taller than you?"

"No."

"Well, dude, no one in their right mind goes into a corn field and just gets lost. Not unless you only want to be found at harvest time and as a corpse. You just don't do that. You'd have to be a moron to do that." Sam said as he took his backpack out of Dean's hands, put it on, and took one of the guns that was loaded with rock salt from the older man before he slammed the trunk closed.

"Huh. Well, then, moron, be prepared because we essentially are going into a wooden corn field. And you signed up for it." Sam closed his eyes and threw his head back. Dean was right. "Come on. Let's get a move on. I'd like to find this place before sunset."

"Me too." Sam mumbled under his breath. The two started through the woods. Sam following Dean, who had the compass. They walked for three hours before Dean stopped and suggested a water and bathroom break. Sam gratefully took the rest.

"You know, this was the part of boy scouts I absolutely always hated." He said as he put the backpack on the ground next to the rock he chose to sit on.

"Dude, you were a boy scout?"

"Briefly. My dad thought that it was a good idea. He said that it was essential for every young man to know how to brave the wilds of the world." Sam shook his head, smiled and laughed. 'Know the wilds of the world. I always thought that was just a place without cable and a phone. Never once did I think that I would be in the woods, in Oregon, looking for some dead guy's house."

Dean chuckled. "Being on the ranch I learned all of that kind of stuff. My dad took me camping and showed me how to use a compass and how to trust my horse, how to defend myself against wild animals."

"Our dads seem to have the same kind of idea on how to raise sons."

"Who would have thunk?" Dean laughed. "You rested enough?" Sam nodded and stood, slinging his bag back on his back.

"Now according to the map and the records you found the other night, the guy's house was five miles off of the road in a north easterly direction. We should be coming up on it." Sam nodded, switched the gun to his less wet left hand and followed the football player.

Another mile or so in their direction yielded the house. And Lord in heaven it was a horribly scary looking house.

"Think some horror movie directors have been here?" Dean asked with a cocked eyebrow. Sam nodded. Vines tangled around the small wooden home, windows broken and those that weren't were frosted over with dirt and years of disuse, the door was hanging by one hinge and looked like that hinge may not last too terribly much longer.

"EMF?" Sam asked. Dean nodded and got into his backpack and pulled out the contraption. He pressed play hesitantly and like Sam earlier was relieved to find that only one light turned on.

"I'm not going to put the headphones on, I want to be able to hear you." Dean said as he unplugged the headphones and put them back into his backpack, put the EMF reader into his left hand and held the gun tightly in his right. Sam got out the camera and took pictures of the house for their power point presentation.

When he stopped taking pictures and was exchanging the still photography camera for the video camera Dean turned to him. "You hear that?"

"What?"

"That's just the thing. I don't hear anything." Sam stopped and listened and the only thing he could hear was Dean's slightly increased breathing, and the pounding of his own heart.

"You're right." Sam said softly. Fear and adrenalin pumping through his body at an alarming rate. Every instinct he had inside of him said that he needed to get out of there and fast, he felt like a wild animal waiting for the hunter to press the trigger and end his life.

"You ready?" Dean asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Dean nodded and the two started slowly towards the house. Dean made sure to take the lead, this was his idea and his plan he would not let Sam be hurt in the execution.

Dean looked back at Sam and sighed, fear was present his eyes and he tried to force a smile. He pushed the door that was on a single hinge and it fell to the floor, in a loud THWUMP. Sam jumped at the noise and it took everything Dean had not to jump with him. Sam turned on the video camera and the two entered the house.

The inside was just as desolate as the outside, and they were careful to walk through the house afraid that one of the boards at their feet would give way to rot at any moment and collapse underneath them.

The two explored the rooms in the house in silence. They entered the final room on the bottom floor and Dean gagged. The smell of rotting flesh greeted his sensitive nose.

"What the hell is that smell?" Sam asked from behind Dean.

"I think it's the girl." Dean said moving from the room. He hurried out of the house and wretched in the grass next to it. Sam was next to him putting his hand on the man's back.

"You okay?" Dean was quiet for a long moment simply trying to catch his breath. He turned to Sam with tears in his eyes.

"She was killed." He started. He stopped himself before he could go on. But Sam saw that there was more in that statement than he understood.

"What did you see?"

"She was backed into the corner and she looked to have died in fright."

"Maybe she died of fright." Sam added.

"I don't know. I don't know." Dean said and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Sam extended his water bottle and Dean emptied some of the contents into his mouth, swished, and spat it onto the ground.

"We should go."

"No. We came to investigate and that is exactly what I intend to do."

"Shouldn't we call the police?" Sam asked as Dean stood up.

"I don't think the police are going to be able to find the killer."

"And you think we will?"

"I think we have found a real ghost."

"What?"

"That girl wasn't killed by anything. No blood no anything. Just a body. A terrified face. She wasn't murdered by a person or an animal."

"Dean you can't be serious."

"I'm serious Sam. You didn't see her." Sam bit his bottom lip and looked around the trees.

"Okay. Say I believe you. Then we need to get out of here before night fall."

"No, Sammy, I think we need to stay and face the thing head on." Sam closed his eyes, tempered down the fear in his stomach and opened his eyes and met Dean's.

"Okay. We'll stay. Just long enough to see if it really is a ghost. Then we freaking high tail it out of here."

"But we'll have to stop it."

"Unless you have found something in your research that I haven't, we don't' know how to stop it quite yet. We stay, find out if it is a ghost, test our salt gun theory, and get the hell out of dodge. Okay?" Dean nodded.

"Roger that." Dean and Sam realized right there sitting next to a house with a corpse inside, that they were about to loose something precious and gain something significant and it scared and excited both of them.


	13. Dean Salt Gun

The boys didn't go back into the house after that. They sat on the step leading into the house. Sam kept the EMF reader on and tried to coax Dean into a conversation about anything, the sky, football, his major, anything to get him to talk and to not look like he had just seen a ghost. Sam gave up after a little while and just sat next to the Texan and waited for him to stir.

"You know Sam, she was someone to somebody. She was someone's daughter. Someone's sister. And she's gone. Just gone. Scared out of her wits by something that isn't supposed to be real." Sam turned and watched the older man. Dean removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes. "Sam. If this is real. If this is completely and 100 percent totally real, what are we going to do?"

"I don't understand."

"If we know there are things out there in the dark hurting people, possibly hunting people, are you okay with just pretending that it doesn't happen? Are you okay with just letting people die because of these things? And think, if ghosts are real…what else is real?"

Sam hadn't thought of that. But he was right. They couldn't just let things in the dark kill people, and take away people from their friends and families.

"Can you imagine what it would be like to loose your mom or dad to something like that?" Dean asked softly.

"No." Sam replied softly. "I can't imagine not having my mother in my life. Or my Dad. They are too much a part of my life."

"Mine too. So, what do you think?"

"I think….that I won't be okay with letting this stuff happen to people."

"Me either." Dean paused and looked at his feet for a moment. "What does that mean for us?"

"I think it means we learn all we can, see if there is even a way to stop things like ghosts and then go from there." Dean nodded.

Sam was just about to say something else when he noticed the EMF reader light up at full strength. Both men looked up and noted that night had fallen and suddenly the area got real cold, Dean saw his breath in front of him. His eyes locked onto Sam's and they both stood. Dean cocked his gun and they marched into the house.

Dean looked around and Sam continued to scan the area with the EMF reader, the house was eerily still, quiet had descended upon them like a curtain falling around them.

"This can't be good." Dean mumbled. Sam was too scared to say anything; he continued to look around the room with the meter. They stepped into the room with the corpse, Dean's head held high, to avoid seeing her. "Keep your head up Sammy. I don't think you wan to see what is in the corner." Sam nodded and never took his eyes off of Dean's back.

Sam moved out to flank Dean as he scanned the room; Dean saw it before Sam did. He saw the ghost become solid, well not solid, but have a form, a form that looked eerily like a man. The ghost was going after Sam. It was going to hurt him. Dean threw himself in front of the younger man and the ghost launched him across the room, throwing him against the wall. Dean struggled to keep conscious.

"Sam! Look out!" he yelled. Sam moved out of the way just in time and Dean struggled to get to the salt gun that was just out of his reach. Finally retrieving it he had it in his hand just as the ghost was about to descend on Sam, who had frantically backed himself into a corner trying to get away from apparition.

"Hey! Ugly!" Dean yelled, and the ghost turned in his direction, and Dean fired the salt gun and the ghost dispersed. Sam looked at Dean stunned, and Dean struggled to get to his feet. Once on them, and ignoring the searing pain in his back and the back of his head he ran to Sam and grabbed his arms.

"Come on Sam, work with me. We need to get out of here." Sam helped Dean get his long lanky form off of the wooden floor and the two grabbed their guns and EMF and ran out of the decrepit house and on the stoop grabbed their book bags and ran as fast as they could away from the house. When they felt the air start to warm back up, the animals and insects start making noise again the men slowed down and turned to each other.

"Wow." Dean said catching his breath.

"Wow? After that, that is all you can say?"

"Yeah." Dean said with a small smile.

"We found a ghost." Sam said amazed.

"That we did."

"We found a dead body."

"Yes."

"Salt worked."

"Amazing."

"This has been the weirdest night of my life."

"Here. Here." Dean said trying for humor. Truth be told, he was scared and shaking. The dead girl in there still weighed heavily on his conscious. "We need to figure out how to kill this son of a bitch." Dean said finally. Sam nodded.

"I'll work on it this week."

"Me too." Dean took a deep calming breath and slapped Sam on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go. Let's get back to school." Sam nodded afraid to say anymore. Classes were going to be the least of his worries this week.

_A/N: If you read Lost Dean, then you've already read a similar note. However, I want to thank everyone who reads this story. Your reviews have meant a great deal to me. I am absoltely amazed that as many of you like it as you do. This will be the last daily/regular update for quite a while. I will update about once a week or so, but as of tomorrow I have to start putting my classroom back together. I will not abandon this story. I will update weekly, just not daily any longer. Again, thank you so much for your reviews!_


	14. Fears

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet, neither man could find the words to express their feelings and fears. Dean thought about the woman back there curled up in on herself, mouth agape, obvious terror in her rotting features, and he thought of her mother and her father and wondered if they should call the police and let them know they found a body in the woods. Would her parents really want to know that their daughter was dead, or would the possibility of her being alive be better than sure knowledge of her death? He grappled with the idea, and he decided that if it were him he would want to know his loved one was dead. Would want to put their body to rest, and not left to rot in a house in the middle of the woods.

"We need to call the police when we get this ghost killed." Sam nodded. "She can't be left like that." Sam looked over at Dean and saw something running down the older man's neck.

"Pull over Dean."

"Why? You okay? Gonna be sick?"

"No. Just pull over please." Dean did as asked and Sam pulled a flashlight out of the book bag that was behind him. He clicked it on and saw that it was blood that was running down Dean's neck.

"You're bleeding."

"I am?" Dean asked surprised.

"You were thrown against the wall."

"It must be no big deal. If it were a big deal it would hurt more." Dean looked to check for oncoming traffic, obviously going to go back out onto the road.

"Wait. Let me see. Just wait." Sam said and Dean sighed and listened to the law student. Sam used the flashlight and found the source of the blood. "It's in your hair." He said. "I can't see it very well."

"We'll figure it out back in the room." Dean said unphased. "A little blood doesn't bother me." Dean said with a shrug and pulled back out onto the road. Sam wondered how often Dean played football injured. He seemed to be someone willing to go through pain and wounds to do what was in the best interest for others. It was then that Sam realized that Dean had thrown himself in front of Sam to protect him.

"Thanks by the way." Sam said.

"For what?"

"For saving my life back there." Dean shrugged.

"No problem."

When they arrived back at the hotel, Dean's head had stopped bleeding and it was just a matter of cleaning it up. Dean let Sam take a shower, and then he took his, and both men slipped into their beds. Neither slept.

"My mom," Sam started seemingly out of the blue. "Said that she adopted me because I was the sweetest thing in the world and that she just couldn't' stand the thought of a little boy not having a home. If she had been the one to die like that I don't know what I would do. Until tonight, I thought that ghosts were just in the movies, thought that the only way a ghost could kill you was if you were an actor and the director yelled action and you played dead because it said so in the script." Sam sighed. "Until tonight, I thought salt was nothing more than a condiment that you put on your French fries."

He paused. "I never thought that my parents were ever in any danger. I always thought that they would be safe in their nice upper middle class house, in suburban Nebraska, behind their locks and dead bolts and security alarm. But they aren't are they Dean? They aren't safe. Some random ghost could just slip through those practical defenses and murder my parents before they knew what is coming." Dean sensed that Sam had more to say so he waited. He heard Sam swallow, Dean assumed that he was swallowing tears, and he wouldn't' pry, because he didn't want to have to admit to himself or to Sam that he had been crying when Sam had been in the shower, so the anonymity that the dark afforded them would not be breached by Dean. "I started to call my parents when you were in the shower, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. What if they didn't answer? What if something got them?"

"Nothing got them." Dean said as much for his own reassurance as Sam's.

"How can you be sure of that?"

"Because, I have to. I have to be sure of that or I won't ever be able to sleep again. I don't want to imagine my parents dying like that poor girl did. I can't. So, I'm going to learn everything I can and make sure it never happens to my parents or anyone I love." Sam nodded. And for some reason Dean's reassurances did their job. For some reason, Dean saying that it would be all right made it so. Sam turned over and tried to sleep, and like Dean, he couldn't, but he pretended to, just for the sake of appearances.

Sam and Dean parted ways on Sunday evening and didn't rejoin until their class on Wednesday. As usual they were both early and both looked as if they hadn't slept much in the last couple of days.

"Find anything?" Sam asked as he sat down.

"Yeah actually. You?"

"Yeah. I found something too. Go first."

"I found that if you burn the body of the ghost they go away."

"I found that too. I also found that you should salt the bones first."

"Always with the salt." Dean tried for levity and failed. He was too tired, the dead girl haunted his dreams, and he was constantly looking over his shoulder expecting to find a ghost just out of eye shot.

"I guess we should try it in concert and see if it works."

"How are we going to know if it works?"

"Go back into the house with the EMF and the camera and wait."

"Okay. Then we call the cops. Her parents deserve to know." Sam nodded.

"Next weekend we go salt and burn a corpse." Sam sighed.

"We need to figure out where the guy is buried though."

"Great." Sam said with a hint of anger. He was just as tired as Dean. "That should be fun, a hermit, what are the odds I'll be able to hack into the county records and find his death certificate and then locate the cemetery where he was buried? What if he wasn't buried Dean? What if he is still in that house?"

"Then I guess we find his corpse and we torch it there."

"But the girl?" Dean took his eyes from Sam and starred out into the distance.

"I don't know Sam. I really don't know." Their conversation stopped, other students entered and took their seats, laughing and carrying on, blind to the things in the dark, and happy with their innocence firmly intact. Dean and Sam each watched with envy and disgust, neither real sure if they were happy that they knew the dangers out there in the world, or terrified because now they knew that nothing was safe, that death didn't just mean the stoppage of breath. And that their families, and their loved ones were fragile and helpless to stop it.

_AN: I was a good girl today, put in a full day at school and at the house, so I thought I deserved time to write. Enjoy!_


	15. Salt and Burn

There was no rock music on the final return trip to Oregon, there was no banter, there was no joking about salt being a deterrent, no conversations about family, sports, or activities. They were quiet on the trip, each watching the road and not seeing it, seeing the dead girl in the cabin, the spirit in the house, and each were seeing the possible deaths that their families could suffer at the hands of a ghost.

"Did you ever find where this guy was buried?" Dean asked when they were both safe and sound into the hotel room.

"I didn't even find a death certificate." Sam said as he set his bag down.

"Basically, no one knows if he is really and truly dead or not?"

"We know he is dead." Dean nodded. "So he obviously died on the premises. We are going to have to go looking for him I guess." Sam paused and thought about that. "Maybe we should look for his corpse in the day." Sam slumped down on the bed.

"You mean before he decides to make us his ghostly lunch?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like a good idea. We're going to have to leave pretty early in the morning in order to get there before it starts to get dark."

"You nervous?" Sam asked and turned to look at Dean. The older man had his hands clasped in between his knees and was hunched over, body language suggesting defeat.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah." Dean finally made eye contact with Sam. "I'm nervous as hell, but I really want to get rid of this sucker. I don't want it hurting anyone else." They didn't speak anymore that evening, instead they each took a shower and went straight to bed.

The next morning it seemed as if both decided to cast off the somber mood they had been in the night before, and to hide their nervousness from themselves as well as each other.  
They chatted about school, friends, classes, and other "normal" things as they drove to the wooded area where they had encountered the ghost. Dean parked the Impala when there was no way to go other than by foot, and they grabbed their duffels and their guns and they started forward. There would be no turning back now.

"So, how exactly do you think we should write this paper?" Sam asked stepping over a large tree root.

"That is a good question Sam. I guess we write it like it is just a myth. I know that I most certainly don't want to tell people that this crap is real." Sam simply nodded. "So that cheerleader, Jessica, the girl you met at the party at my apartment a couple of weeks ago."

"Yes, Dean I remember that."

"She asked about you."

"Really?" Sam said trying to act casual.

"She wanted to know if you had said something. Like whether or not you liked her."

"What did you say?"

"I said that you had your head so far up your ass you weren't seeing daylight. Because if you were you would notice that she is hott and you would have called her."

"Oh God. You really said that didn't you?"

"You bet ya." Sam groaned. "Told her you would call her Monday."

"I don't have her number."

"I do." Sam was about to say something like "give it to me" when they rounded the corner and found the house. Sam came up to stand next to Dean and they both examined the house with a sigh.

"I read that the bodies of those who aren't at rest give off EMF."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So I guess we start looking around and see what we can find."

"Sounds like a good plan." Sam dug into the book bag that he had slung over his shoulder and handed one of the EMF readers to Dean, checked his shot gun like Dean had taught him, nodded to Dean and the pair headed straight into the house.

They decided that taking each floor together would be the best course of action. After the last time they didn't want to be too terribly far from each other just incase the ghost decided that it would be a good idea to try throwing one of them around again.

The first floor proved to be a bust and then they moved onto the second floor and found nothing out of the ordinary.

"Where do you think he could be?" Sam asked as they walked down the stairs. "It won't be long before dusk and I really don't want to be here when he decides to make a repeat appearance."

"Me either." They reached the landing of the bottom floor and they looked around. "Do you think there is a basement?"

"Where would it be? We've looked everywhere." Dean shrugged. After looking around he threw the duffel bag onto the floor, unzipped it, and dug the shovel out of it. "What do you need that for? You think you can dig a basement and find the dead guy?"

"No genius. I'm going to break the floor boards in here and see if I can see down where there might be a basement."

"Why would there be a basement and no door to the basement."

"Dude was crazy right?"

"Well, I would imagine anyone who lived out here by themselves, and didn't like people around them, might be a little on the crazy side, yeah."

"Well, then think. Maybe crazy hermit guy walled himself up in the basement." Sam's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Why would anyone do that?"

"What part of crazy hermit guy did you miss?" Sam cocked his eyebrows and nodded.

"True." Without further adieu Dean found a loose section of board and jammed the shovel tip underneath it, and pulled the board out of its socket. He pulled another and another until they could see down inside, and there it was, a basement. Dean had been right.

"I'll be damned." Sam said in awe. Dean nodded as they looked down into the dusty room. "How do we get down?" Sam asked. Dean pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and looked around for a moment. He scanned the walls looking for something that didn't quite match up to the rest of the room. He dug the small flashlight out of the pocket of his coat and turned it on, walked closer to the wall he believed was false, and shined the light around the edges.

"Hold the light Sammy." Dean said and Sam took the light, and Dean swung the shovel at the wall and it went right through the flimsy wood. After several quick hard strokes, he dropped the shovel and went after the wall with his bare hands. Sam tucked the flashlight under his chin and went at the wall from the opposite end. Between the two of them they managed to get the wall down to reveal a stairwell that went down.

Dean perspiring and panting looked at the taller man and smiled. "You wanted a way down." Sam laughed. Dean took the light from him and the two of them started cautiously down the stairs. At the bottom, Sam's EMF meter, the only one the two of them had at the second--Dean left his in the upstairs along with his bag, went crazy. All of the light bulbs turned red and the screeching sound hurt Sam's ears.

"Over there." Sam said pointing up ahead. The darkness seemed to swallow up the light from the flashlight as the boys walked ahead. Sam turned a little scanning the other areas of the basement with the flashlight and when he took a step back something pressed against his back. Startled he turned around and the flashlight came upon the face of a skull.

"Holy!" Sam said startled. Dean swung around and saw what the law student saw. The crazy hermit had hanged himself.

"Holy crap." Dean mumbled under his breath. Sam backed up and the two starred at the skeleton for a few moments.

"We just set the whole house on fire?" Sam asked.

"We cut him down and salt and burn his corpse."

"You think that will really work?"

"Only way we will ever know is if we try it." Sam nodded. He pulled out the pocket knife his father gave him for his birthday several years ago and reached up and began cutting through the thick ropes that held the skeleton. It fell down in a heap. Dean reached into Sam's book bag and pulled out the container of salt and began to salt the bones when the room went cold. The EMF meter that had been discarded on the floor next to their feet went wild and just as Sam turned around to see what was going on the ghost appeared and tossed him across the dingy room.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. The ghost descended upon Sam, wrapping his ghostly fingers around his neck and attempting to squeeze the life out of him. Dean couldn't find his salt gun, there was no way to help the younger man without it. He frantically pulled the lighter fluid out of the book bag and squeezed the fluid all over the bones and threw his lighter on top of the mass of bones. A WHOOSH flared to life. Dean ran to Sam, screaming various obscenities at the ghost who had the younger man trapped on the floor, his tongue sticking out and his eyes bulging slightly from his head. Just as Dean reached Sam the ghost popped and disappeared. The ghostly hands choking the life from the living disappearing as quickly as they appeared.

"You okay?" Dean asked kneeling at the man's side. Sam gasped for breath and gave him a thumbs up sign.

"We have to get out of here now. Come on Sam!" He helped Sam to his feet and after a few stumbled steps they were able to grab their gear and get to the first floor before the fire flared even more to life, consuming furniture and the dry wood of the basement. They ran out of the front door into the night and got far enough away from the cabin to be safe and watched for a moment as the little house caught fire throughout and flames licked the sky.

"It worked." Dean said in awe.

"Thank God." Sam said and looked to the older man. "Thanks." Dean simply nodded, simply flabbergasted at the events.


	16. Hunter Round Robin

"Bobby." Bobby Singer had been steadily working on paperwork for his salvage yard when his phone rang. There was no 'hello' or other form of greeting, simply a man on the other end who sounded tense and angry—had to be a hunter.

"Yes?"

"Josh."

"What's wrong?"

"I was going on a hunt in southern Oregon. A girl went missing a few weeks ago, and I noted a pattern to it, anyway, I went out there, started talking to the locals about it, pretending to be her uncle, and this woman said that my sons were out looking for her in the woods. Said they came by a couple of weeks ago and were checking in with the local police. Well, by the time I got to the site, there were two men, well young men, standing there watching the fire. Bobby, I think it was the Winchesters."

"What? They are in California. They are at Stanford. There is no reason they should be in Oregon."

"Well, I know the pictures that you've shown me of them, one tall really tall, skinny, floppy hair, and the other shorter built very stocky, well muscled, glasses?"

"Yeah."

"Well they were there. Aren't too many hunters who travel in pairs."

"They aren't' freaking hunters."

"No. But they were acting like them."

"Crap. Thanks Josh."

"No problem Bobby. Oh, Bobby, what do you want us to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we are supposed to keep them out of this life, aren't we? How are we going to do that now if they know what is really out there?" Bobby sighed and ran a hand over his beard. Truth was he really didn't know at all.

"I'm going to make some phone calls to parents and let them know the situation. Thanks again Josh, I'll think of something." Bobby turned off the cell phone and threw it down on the table. "Damnit!" he growled. "How am I going to tell their parents?" he wondered aloud. He had sworn to keep watch over those boys, sworn to make sure they didn't know what was out there in the dark, sworn to protect them, to keep them safe, to keep them out of the life. He failed. How in the hell had they gotten into the world? What had prompted it? First, they meet each other when it is ridiculously unlikely and then they fall into a hunt?

First thing he did was call Sam's dorm room and ask his roommate if he was in, his very confused roommate had no clue where Sam was, but did know that he was with a football player. Bobby sighed heavily when getting off of the phone with the stupid clueless boy. He called Dean's apartment and talked with a kid named "Butch" and he sounded like he was about as smart as his name indicated, Bobby decided that he must have made Stanford on a football scholarship, and the boy had absolutely no clue where Dean was but he indicated that he took his "sweet ride" with him and was with some little nerd he had met in a class.

Bobby again threw his phone onto the table. Standing, he took his hat off and rubbed a hand through his thinning hair and closed his eyes and tried to think positively about the situation. However, no matter how he looked at it, the situation still spelled disaster. Maybe if he could keep the boys from hunting anything else they wouldn't come up on anything's radar, or it could be too late and the monsters could have smelled Winchester blood in the water and are already gunning for the young men.

He picked up his phone and decided to call Dean's mother first. "Anna?" he asked after the greeting.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah it's me."

"What's the matter?" her voice had gone from cheerful to tense in a second.

"The boys have been hunting."

"Dean hunts all of the time."

"No. They hunted a ghost. Not a deer."

"No. No, Dean couldn't have." Bobby could hear her swallow. "Dean is a happy well adjusted young man. He would never believe in ghosts, much less go out there and find one to hunt and kill. Sam…" she stopped. She was just about to damn Sam. About to accuse him of getting her precious Dean into the dangerous world, but she stopped because she knew in her heart that Sarah and Adam had raised Sam with the same love and affection that they had liberally bestowed upon Dean. No way that Sam had done it either. "How?" she finally asked. Bobby could hear the tears in her voice.

"I don't know."

"Do we pull him out of school?"

"No. Let him finish. He has a few more months. But make it clear that he needs to be home after graduation. I want him back on the ranch. I want him back inside of the wards."

"Okay. What do we do until then?"

"I will go back to Stanford and do another sweep of the area. Look for any signs of anything supernatural, and I will re-bless his apartment, even though I think that kid he lives with.." Anna let out a strangled laugh. "I'll do whatever I can Anna. I promise."

"I know Bobby. I just want to know how this happened."

"So do I Anna. So do I."

"Thank you. I'm going to call my boy and make sure he is all right."

"Do that. Make sure that he sounds okay. Because he is going to outright lie to you."

"I would lie to me too." She paused. "Bobby, worst case scenario?"

"Demons are out and they are hunting for your boy, and they are testing him to see how far he will go."

"Best case?"

"Your son is an idiot." She tried to laugh.

"Let's just hope that it is the latter."

"Yes, let's."

"I'll call Sara and let her know the news."

"Are you sure Anna?"

"Yes. I think it would be best from me."

"Okay. I will talk to you soon Anna."

"Bye Bobby." Bobby didn't throw the phone that time. He laid it down on the desk and he looked out of his window and sighed.

"I am so sorry John."


	17. Presentation

"Our research shows that the best and most practical way disposing of a ghost is to salt and burn the corpse, making sure to leave none of the person's bodily remains behind for the ghost to attach itself to and create more problems." Sam finished and clicked the button on the computer and the last slide that simply stated "the end" appeared on the screen.

"Any questions?" Dean asked.

"Rock salt?" Ryan at the far left table asked.

"Yeah." Dean held up the shot gun shell filled with salt again. "Salt."

"How did you come up with shot gun shells filled with salt?" Carlie, the girl next to Ryan said amazed.

Dean shrugged. "Just wondered how effective it would really be to carry a salt shaker and try to throw the salt at the ghost and decided that it wouldn't work. And I hunt with my dad and this sounded like a reasonable idea." The classroom fell silent. Sam looked at Dean and Dean looked at Dr. Elms indicating they had finished their presentation.

"No more questions?" The instructor asked. Everyone just sat there in stunned silence.

"Well thank you Sam and Dean for a very thorough report. That's it." The instructor said in his usual brisk manner, and the students hurried out of the room, the professor just simply gave everyone the willies.

"Boys." Dr. Elms called out as the two were leaving. Dean turned around first.

"Yes sir?"

"Come here." Sam and Dean gave each other a strange look and went where their instructor indicated.

"Yes sir?" Dean replied.

"Where did you guys come up with that stuff?"

Sam readjusted his book bag and looked at Dean before saying: "What do you mean?"

"Your project felt like you really and truly attempted your findings."

"No, sir. Sammy here is just one hell of a research guy. He told me what he found and I made practical models of the stuff and well, we just tried to make it sound more realistic, didn't want it to be boring." The man nodded.

"Thank you gentlemen." Sam and Dean nodded. They both turned to leave and each felt a little uncomfortable giving their backs to the man but they forced themselves to go and pretend like they didn't feel like spiders were crawling up and down their spines.

Dr. Elms smiled to himself as he watched the two boys exit the classroom. They had the Winchesters exactly where they wanted them. It was only a matter of time before they would go after them and take what they wanted. The hunters had played right into their hands, making the boys defenseless against the supernatural world and hiding their greatest strength from each other--their bond. Even now it was there, just under the surface, but without years of nurturing, it was still too weak for either of them to really use. They were truly defenseless, Dean could make as many shot gun shells filled with salt he wanted, but there was no way he was going to be prepared for what was coming, much less be able to protect those he loved and the boy he didn't know was family.


	18. Time

The janitor's keys jangled at his belt as he approached the last classroom on his rounds for the evening. Selecting a key from the ring at his side he put it into the lock, turned, and entered the darkened room.

Setting aside his cart full of disinfectant, cloths, dusters, and trash bags, he flipped on the light and began his search for something that had nothing to do with dirt and all to do with the supernatural.

Bobby Singer had pulled up each boy's schedules and posed as a replacement night janitor and had systematically checked each room. So far he had been in 8. This was the last room and the only one in which they shared, as a matter of fact it was the only class they shared.

He slipped the EMF reader out of his pocket and began to scan the area. It was clean. Just like the other eight rooms had been. He had seriously been hoping for this room to be different, to have something traceable that would explain why the boys would even suspect that there were things out there in the night that were dangerous, and then take to the idea that they could do something about it.

Bobby sighed as he took one final visual scan of the area. There had to be SOMETHING around that would make the two of them risk their necks. Sam and Dean were normal, there was no reason for them to even be curious. He was just about to turn the light off when something caught his eye. He moved to the podium at the front of the classroom, and he knelt down, knees creaking, and touched the carpet where a yellow substance rested. He lifted his finger to his nose and smelled the substance and his blood ran cold in his veins.

"Sulfur." He muttered amazed. He stood quickly, looked around the room, and decided that before he went into panic mode that he would check and make sure that this room wasn't used for a science lab and that there wasn't any legitimate reason for there to be sulfur in the room, maybe it was used as a science lab room in the middle of the afternoon.

He had moved out of that room and out of the building so fast that he would have done a cartoon proud. Checking the room allocation report took absolutely no effort and his results made him sigh and rub a hand down his beard.

After making a few calls he was in fact certain that this was a demon, and what concerned him more than anything else was that it was THE demon. The demon that had started this whole thing, and the demon that they needed to take out before it got to the boys. The boys could not be killed by this demon, no matter what, no matter who else died in the cross fire, they could not die, they could not succumb to the evil that was working on surrounding them, tightening its grip and would soon smother the two boys.

Bobby dreaded what he had to do. Dreaded the fact that he had to train these boys, had to make them into hunters, deprive them of the last shreds of innocence that they had left. He didn't want to break the news to them about their lineage. He most certainly did not want to see the look of anger in Dean's eye when he told him that he had a brother, and that brother was the man standing next to him.

Bobby had kept close tabs on the boys as they had grown up, learned that Dean was fiercely protective and devoted to his family. Learned that despite everyone's best efforts he still remembered being a big brother, but didn't remember to whom. When he was little he used to have dreams about the fire, about carrying a brother to safety, and what had bothered him most about the dreams, wasn't the fire, but the fact that he didn't know what happened to the little boy, didn't know if he was safe. As Dean grew older the dreams had stopped, but he became the champion of the underdog at school. Any younger boy who was being bullied or hurt was defended by the taller stronger boy. Dean never let anyone walk alone. He was a protector; it was ingrained into his soul. Bobby didn't want to arouse that protector, and hurt the young man by revealing that they had taken away that brother, that they had been the ones responsible for that hole in his heart.

On the other hand, Sam had no recollection of having a sibling, but he had persistently asked his parents when he was young why they waited so long to have him and asked often if they would adopt someone a little older, a boy, to be his big brother. When asked why he wanted a big brother and not a little one, Sam had shrugged his little kid shoulders and said, "It just feels like I need one." And continued to play.

Bobby would have to shatter all of the lies, all of the deceptions, bring the two boys together, destroy any semblance of a nice safe and happy life they might have one day. He cursed himself for it, cursed the fates, and cursed the demon. It was time to make the calls.


	19. Graduation and Revelations

Anna Calhoun sat in one of the beautiful white folding chairs, the sun shone above, bright, clear and cheerful, a cloud or two passed through the baby blue sky and the birds chirped lightly in the background. Occasionally the wind blew threw and ruffled her hair and clothes, but it truly was a beautiful day. And the tension singing through her body was enough to kill a person.

Waiting for her boy's name to be called so he could walk across the stage dressed in his magna cum laude robes and cords, smile, and take his diploma. She was excited for that but she was terrified because Bobby said that the demons were near. That the demons were all around the campus and that they needed to get the boys away for the summer, that they needed to tell the boys about the deception and the origin of their lives.

Anna held tightly onto her purse while the professors talked about the honor that these young people were achieving and she put her hand inside her purse fingering her holy water flask, she looked to her left and watched her husband's fingers twitch, wanting desperately to be holding the flask that was in his breast pocket. While proud of her son, the son she had raised and protected, she was terrified. What if after all of this was over, he didn't want to be her son anymore?

After the ceremony, after the party, after the moving out, after the driving back to Texas, the small Calhoun family sat to breakfast. Pancakes. Dean's favorite.

"So I applied to UT for the masters program. I think I'll get accepted." Dean said. "I'm just not sure if I want to go right away, or stay here and work the ranch with you for a year dad? What do you think?"

"Are you ready to jump right back into school son?" Logan asked looking over his son's head at his wife who was scraping the last of the pan into the garbage. Dean was giving them an out. Giving them a way to make this break easier.

"That's just it. I've spent four years busting my ass—"

"Dean." His mother scolded.

"Mom, come on, I'm 23, I have said a lot worse."

"Not in this house you won't." she said authoritatively. Dean wanted to smile, some things just absolutely never change.

"Anyway, dad, as I was saying." He mock glared at his mother who shook her head. "I'm tired of reading, tired of studying. I just feel like I need to get my hands dirty for a while. Reconnect." Logan laughed.

"Reconnect? Son. You spent a few too many years in the land of the philosophers." Dean laughed a little.

"Yeah. I spose so." He put his fork down on the plate and laid his napkin on the table next to it. He leveled a look at his father. "Do you want me here? Or do you and mom enjoy not having me in your hair?"

"Dean!" his mother started.

"I didn't mean that you don't WANT me mom. But you guys have had four years here without me underfoot. I respect that. I don't have to work the ranch. Dad has it completely under control. I know that."

"Dean! We want you here. Want you to stay. Your dad and I were trying to figure out how to get you to stay anyway."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, you aren't married, you don't have kids, and we can have that last year with our boy before he is fully a man and doesn't need his old people anymore." Dean laughed.

"Mom. As long as you keep cooking I will always need my old people." She threw her dishtowel on her boy's face and he laughed and threw it back.

"So it's settled. You are staying here for the next year or so. Good. I like having my men together." Anna said.

Convincing Dean to go with them to see distant family in South Dakota wasn't hard. He whined a little, saying that he should stay and oversee the outfit, but Logan coaxed a little more saying that this relative knew how to make a mean cake, and she still remembered what he liked from when he was a kid and was excited to make it for him and to watch the grown man gobble it up. That had been over three days ago, and they were in the car on the last strip of highway before finding Bobby Singer's salvage yard.

When they turned into the long drive to the salvage yard, Dean perked up, looked around, and then looked at his parents, confusion etched into his strong features.

"What are we doing here?" Neither parent answered. "Mom? Dad?"

"It's a long story baby." Anna said with tears in her voice.

"Mom? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine sweetie. I'm fine."

"What's going on?" the question hadn't left his mouth when a Buick with Nebraska license plates pulled up beside their car. Dean opened the car door and the backseat door of the Buick opened at the same time. A tall lanky figure emerged and looked at him.

"Dean?"

"Sam?"

"What are we doing here?"

"I have no idea." Four car doors slammed and two sets of very worried parents faced their children. The tension crackled between the two families. The screen door to the old dilapidated house slammed shut. Everyone turned to face the old grizzled man who stood on the porch.

Both sets of parents walked forward and shook hands with the older man. "Sam. Dean. Come on now. Don't just stand there." Bobby said. He was as nervous as a new father. He hadn't seen the boys since they were little, hadn't seen them since the day he put Sam into Sara's arms and watched as Dean screamed and kicked and pleaded with them to not take his little brother away. When Bobby closed his eyes he could still hear the anguish in the four year old's voice, see the tears flowing from his too big green eyes, and hear the pounding on the back windshield as they drove away from Singer Salvage.

Dean took the lead and walked forward, Bobby noted the slight bowleggedness the boy had, _must have ridden a lot of horse with h is daddy over the years_. Bobby thought.

"Dean." Dean said and extended his hand to Bobby's, Bobby shook his hand and noted the strength in the hands and the fierceness in his eyes.

"Bobby Singer." Dean backed away and let Sam come through.

"Sam." He stated and extended his hands as well.

"Come on in boys. There is a lot to say." Dean took the lead and got ahead of his friend and entered the house. Both sets of parents looked at Bobby with worry in their eyes. Anna and Sara both had been unable to have children, and Sam and Dean had become their children and they were afraid that when they left this house, they were going to be as childless as they were 19 years ago.


	20. Fight

When Dean stepped into the living room he was amazed that anyone could live like this. Books were in stacks everywhere, some placed a little too close to the fireplace, and he found himself hoping that this Bobby guy didn't light a fire with the books that close, it was bad enough the house looked about ready to fall over he didn't need to add fire on top of it.

Dean turned to Sam whose eyes were wide and looked just as confused as Dean felt. Sam had no idea what this was about either.

"Boys, sit." Bobby said from behind. Dean nodded and sat down on the couch closest to him, Sam sat down next to him. Their parents sat on a couch next to theirs and Bobby didn't sit. He stood looking rather nervous.

"What is going on?" Dean finally asked.

"You boys been in Oregon lately?" Bobby started. Sam and Dean looked at each other, both trying to decide if they should lie or tell the truth.

"Yeah." Sam said suspiciously.

"You guys light anything on fire?" Dean sat bolt right in the chair.

"You a cop?" Bobby sighed and ran a hand down the length of his face he was screwing this up.

"No. No. Did you find a spirit there?"

"There are no such things as ghosts." Dean said cautiously.

"Don't lie Dean." Anna said from her position.

"Mom?"

"We know you found that ghost up in Oregon, and we heard that the two of you took care of it." Logan added. Sam's parents nodded.

"Then, why exactly are we having this conversation?" Dean asked.

"Because. It is your birthright."

"Oh please, let's not pull this Star Wars carp. Luke I am your father." Dean stopped looked at Bobby, thought about his own reflection and then asked tentatively. "You aren't my father are you?" Bobby laughed, so did both sets of parents. Tension broken Bobby smiled.

"No, no, no. I'm not your father. You don't have to worry about the hairline." Bobby joked. Neither boy looked amused. Bobby sobered, adjusted his hat and looked at the people who had raised these fine young men. He took a deep breath and said "But you do have biological family in this room. It just isn't me." Sam and Dean looked at each other confused. "You boys are brothers." Dean sat bolt right.

"Wait!" he said and looked at his parents. "You guys told me that those dreams I had were just dreams. That I really didn't have a brother." Sam looked up at the older boy confused. He had no memories at all, dreams even, of an older brother.

"Those were memories. Memories of the fire, the fire that took your real mother." Anna said, the words seemed to hurt her, to say that their REAL mother had been taken.

"So, there really was a fire? And I really did take a baby, my brother," he turned and pointed to Sam who was still sitting, "Sam, out of that fire?"

"Yes you did."

"And why exactly didn't anyone feel the need to share that I had a brother? After all of the times I asked, and even asked you mom to have another kid so I could have a brother? Why didn't you tell me that he was just a few states away? Why didn't you let me see him? Why? What good did that do?" Dean was shaking. Sam was wondering if there were tears in his eyes, it sounded like it in his voice, but with his back to him he couldn't be sure.

"We had to keep you two apart. We needed to keep you boys safe."

"Why couldn't we be safe together?" Dean demanded. Both parents looked at Bobby and he sighed.

"Your father thought it was best."

"My father? Who the hell is he? I don't remember him. I barely remember Sam. Who the hell is a guy I don't even know, who didn't raise me, to tell my parents who I am and am not allowed to know or be around? Huh?! Answer me now damnit!"

"Son…" Bobby started.

"I am not your son! Answer my question."

"There are demons."

"Demons?" Sam questioned sitting forward on the couch. "Like from hell?"

"Yes, from hell. They want one of you boys. Your daddy, John Winchester, didn't know which one. So between me and him we decided that it would be best to separate the two of you. The prophecy said…."

"A prophecy like the whole old Greek oracle crap."

"Yeah."

"And we follow that because you know it always ends well for the Greeks." Dean said rolling his eyes. He took off his glasses and flung them on the couch and rubbed his eyes, he couldn't look at this man anymore. The fuzzy version was so much easier to deal with. Bobby closed his eyes and tried to count to ten. Anna and Logan always said that Dean was stubborn and strong willed, and now that he was facing both of those traits at the second he decided that the Calhoun's hadn't exactly been completely honest in their intensity.

"Together you guys make a bigger target. Separated we would have time to save at least one of you if the shit hit the fan." Dean gaped at the man.

"Okay, so Sam dies, because what, some demon sneaks into his room and kills him for kicks, and then well you guys go on lock down and save my ass or vice versa. And either my parents or his have to live with the loss but be okay with it because well the other one is safe. What bull shit!"

"Dean honey." Anna tried.

"No, mom. Not now. What if you had lost me? Would you have been okay knowing that at least Sam was safe?"

"Dean that's not exactly all demons do. They don't just kill people."

"Spit it out! All of this dramatic pause crap is stupid."

"Sometimes they possess people."

"Possess?"

"Take over. Sometimes they take over someone's body and make them do things. Kill people. Unspeakable things. And we were afraid that they would do that to one of you, and the other would kill the other if you two were together."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You guys are the ones who are supposed to save us from the demons." Sara said softly.

"What?" Sam asked and stood next to Dean.

"The prophecy says that you two are supposed to save us from Hell."

"And by keeping us in the dark about all things supernatural, you accomplished what?"

"We thought it would keep you two out of the war."

"Even though we are supposed to save humans from the upcoming disaster." Dean directed.

"Your Dad, John, wanted the two of you to live a real life. Wanted you to be safe." Bobby supplied.

"Where is this son of a bitch? If he has been dictating my life then I want him to show himself and explain this crap to me himself." Bobby looked down, adjusted the cap and all four parents looked away from the boys.

"He's dead." Sam said softly. "Isn't he?" Bobby nodded. Both boys felt like they had just been kicked in the gut.

"Yeah, died a couple of years ago. A demon got him." Dean stiffened took a deep breath, looked at Sam and through the blur he could see the family in him.

"I want to know how to fight this stuff. I want to know how to take out more than just a ghost."

"Me too." Sam added. "I want us to learn as a unit. I want to fight with Dean, I want to fight with my brother."


	21. Lost Brothers

Dean looked at Sam as if he had just grown an additional head. "What the hell are you talking about? You just finished your first year at Stanford. You can't quit."

"I can do whatever in the world I want to." Dean took his glasses off and threw them on the couch behind them and rubbed his eyes frustrated.

"You got an academic scholarship. You are not dropping out of college. I won't allow it." He yelled completely amazed that Sam would even consider giving up anything to go demon hunting.

Sam chuffed. "You won't ALLOW it? Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what I can and can't do?" Dean turned, face a mask of anger.

"I am your brother. That's who I am. And I--" he stopped mid-sentence realizing what he said. He looked at the taller young man and shook his head. "No. No. I can't do this right now." He turned on his heal and went straight out of the front door slamming it shut behind him.

Sam and the others stared at each other dismayed. "Should I go after him?" Sam asked. Anna shook her head.

"He won't get far without his glasses." She said quietly and picked up the wire rimmed glasses from the couch and folded them neatly in her hand and sighed. They all looked at the floor, at the furniture, their hands, out the window, anywhere but at each other. Sam was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had his first argument with his brother. An actual brother, a brother that was cool, a brother that was a jock, a brother that knew how to ride horses and how to shoot a rifle and had taught him how to do the same thing, a brother that remembered him, a brother that he hadn't grown up with, a brother that he barely knew, a brother….

"Sam sweetie?" his mother questioned. Sam turned in the direction of his mother. "Are you okay?"

"Why did you guys keep us apart?"

"Like I said, your dad wanted you two kept apart, said that it would be safer that way." Sam took that information in.

"So, you listened to him…why?"

"He was your dad."

"And how did you choose my parents?"

"We lost a child because of a striega." Adam said. "We knew about the supernatural, were in contact with Bobby, we were going to start hunting ourselves, but then he offered you to us, offered to let us be parents again. We took him up on it. We protected you with everything we knew how, Bobby kept an eye out for anything dangerous and we took care of what we could."

"Then why keep me in my dark?"

"Because we felt it was best." Anna said. "Your mom, dad, Logan and I decided that it would be best. We decided that it would be best for the two of you to grow up normally. That maybe, just maybe, if you weren't in the game that the demons wouldn't come looking for you, that they would leave you alone and we could avoid the whole prophecy thing."

"And Dean knew about me?"

"Yes he did." Anna said holding the glasses close to her chest.

"And he suffered?"

"What do you mean?"

"He was hurt when you took him away from me."

Anna looked to her husband and he nodded. "He cried for days. When he stopped crying he refused to eat. He shut down for a while. But after a while he came out of the funk and when he asked about you, we told him that you were just a dream. That he really didn't have a little brother. It worked after a little while and he finally quit asking about you. He got on with being a kid and was okay again." Sam nodded and licked his lips.

"Give me his glasses please. He needs them." Sam said extending a hand out to the woman. She reluctantly handed them to Sam, she felt like she was handing over the keys to her son and it took all she had to watch Sam's large hand close around the thin frames and glass and walk out the door.


	22. Grilled Chicken

Sam walked out of the door and let the screen door slam behind him. He expected to have to go far to find Dean, and was surprised when he found his brother, the word sounded so alien to his mind, perched on the trunk of his car starring out into the sunset. Sam made his way to the car and perched on the back of it and simply held the glasses over to the older man without looking at him.

"Thought you might need these." Dean looked down at the offering. He unfolded his strong arms and took the glasses out of his little brother's hand.

Dean snorted. "Yeah. I came out here thinking I could get into the car and drive away, back home if I had to, just away from here. Then I realized that the world was fuzzy, and that my glasses were inside and I really just didn't want to go back in there and get them. Pride I guess." He sighed, put his glasses on, wrapped his arms around his chest again and scuffed his shoe against the dirt. "I bet you are just so thrilled. You get an older brother who throws a tantrum when things don't go his way. Aren't you lucky." He said slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't know how I would have reacted if I were in your place. I don't have any memory of a brother, you do. You remember being taken away from me and you were hurt by it. I think I probably would have stormed out too."

"I don't remember you exactly." Dean said after a pause. "I remember what it was like to have you. I remember the dreams I had. I remember holding you and running out of a house. I had dreams about sleeping in your room when you were little, I don't know how much of that was dream and how much of that was memory, it has been so long ago. I haven't had the dreams in ages."

"Your mom said that they told you they were all just dreams and you didn't have a brother."

"Yeah. They did. I didn't have an easy time with them the first couple of years. You're lucky."

"What?"

"You didn't have to know what it felt like have someone taken away."

"I feel robbed actually."

"What? Why?"

"You got to be a big brother, you know what it feels like. I've been an only child. For my whole life. I don't have memories of you. I don't have that connection."

"Connection?" Dean laughed. "I have no connection with you. We didn't get to grow up together. I didn't get to teach you about girls, teach you how to drive, or help you get drunk the first time. I didn't get to do any of that stuff with you. My friends got to do it, but I didn't. I just had these memories of a baby, a baby that wasn't supposed to be anything but a dream. I don't even know what your favorite food is."

Sam thought about his words. He was right. They really and truly didn't have a formal connection. But he didn't know if Dean noticed it or not but when they had been researching the ghosts and how to kill them, they worked in tandem as if they had been made to work that way. Sam wanted to explore that. He wanted to get to know this man beside him. He wanted to be his brother. It felt right to call Dean his brother. For some reason it just did.

"I say that we take this opportunity to get to know each other."

"What opportunity?"

"Learning to hunt demons and other crap like that."

"You can't be serious about wanting to drop out of school." Sam chuckled. Dean sighed and hung his head. "Sorry. I have no right to say anything. It is between you and your parents."

"No. You see, that's the thing. We are blood. You do have a say in what I do. But this is a time where I'm not going to listen to you. I want to do this. I want to be ready for anything these demons are going to throw at us."

"But you were just getting to know Jessica." Sam shrugged.

"I'll go back eventually, when everything is over. I just feel that this is really important."

"But this Bobby guy could be full of shit." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Why would our parents and this random guy do this? We saw a ghost head on. I think he's telling the truth."

Dean snorted and licked his lips. "Yeah, I think you're right." He sighed and finally took a good look at the man that was his brother, and noticed the little things that were similar in his own features, the brown hair, the hazel eyes, the high cheek bones. He could see the family in his features. "Sam, I really don't want you to give up your whole future for this."

"Let's take this slow. We'll work this summer together, get to know each other, learn how to fight the supernatural, and we'll get Bobby to tell us about our family. We'll see how I feel about returning to school after that." Dean sighed and nodded, he knew when he was loosing an argument.

"Okay, okay. I suppose we should go back inside and face the parents." Dean said with a hint of hostility. Sam nodded and the two pushed away from the muscle car and headed towards the house.

"By the way, my favorite food is grilled chicken."


	23. Confrontation

Sam expected Dean to walk into the house and look sort of chagrined for acting the way he did, but he wasn't. He entered the old man's house with head high and eyes blazing. All of the "adults" were sitting in the living room, both mothers together, holding hands looking nervous and worried, and both fathers sitting together starring straight ahead. Then there was Bobby, who was the only one standing, who was pacing back and forth looking as tired and worried as the parents.

Everyone turned when they heard Sam and Dean's footfalls enter the living room. All eyes looked expectant, sad, nervous, and scared. Sam felt the tension in the room and wanted to squirm. He wanted out of there. He wanted this particular part of this encounter to be over. Sam turned to Dean, whose chin was angled just slightly up, and his eyes were wide and angry. Sam instinctively put a hand on his forearm.

"We want to learn." Sam said simply. "You were offering to teach us, correct Bobby?" Bobby nodded.

"Yeah. I would like to train the two of you." Sam nodded and when he turned back to Dean he expected his stance to be more relaxed but it wasn't. He pulled his arm out of Sam's light grasp and stepped forward, positioning him in the center of the room.

"Mom. Dad. I want you to know that I love you. But I am very angry with you. I am so angry actually, that all I want to do is scream at the two of you. I remember crying and screaming for my baby brother. I REMEMBER that. It wasn't a dream. He is not a dream. I knew I was adopted, I knew that, I think it would have only been fair to tell me I had a brother out there as well. You had no right to take him away from me and reduce him to a nightmare. It will take a long time to forgive you for that." Anna felt a tear slip from her eye. She was loosing the boy she had raised. She knew in her heart, always known in fact, that Dean wasn't hers, that he belonged to the world and that the world would one of these days take him back and he would fulfill his higher purpose, and she would loose the four year old she had rocked to sleep, the ten year old who had been excited for school, the sixteen year old learning to drive, eighteen year old going to his senior prom, and the man who graduated from Stanford. But knowing it and seeing it happen in front of her, didn't stop her heart from bleeding.

"Mom." Dean started. She looked at him. "I am still your son." The tears came down her face in a free flow. She stood and hugged him. "I love you mom. I'm mad as hell, but I want you to know that I still love you."

"….what about school?" Anna finally heard over here own panic.

"I want to do this mom."

"But you have a scholarship."

"Scholarship or no, the world may need me more."

"Sam. You worked so hard."

"I'll keep working mom. But it may just be on something else for a while."

"I don't like it Sam."

"I don't either." Dean chimed in. "I tried to talk him out of it. But he won't listen. The only thing he gave me was that he'll see how he feels about it come August."

"Sam."

"I've made up my mind Dad. I'm an adult. I'll do this if I want to. Don't start. I'm not really in the mood for it. Just because I'm not yelling like Dean, doesn't mean that I'm not just as angry. I want to stay here. I want to fight whatever is coming, and I want to spend time getting to know Dean like I should. I want to figure out what it is like to live with a brother. And there is nothing you or mom can say to change my mind. This is my decision, and I've made it." Sara and Adam starred at their son like he was a stranger. He never stood up for himself quite so definitively. He usually succumbed to their decisions, he usually did what he was told, but here he was, being defiant, doing what he wanted, and he wasn't going to listen to anyone else. It was starting, Sam was changing, becoming a Winchester and shedding the Tomlenn suit he had been wearing for 19 years.

"Okay son. Okay." Adam and Sara looked at Anna and Logan and they each had the same sadness in their faces. "Are we ready to go?" Adam asked finally. The other set of parents nodded.

"So you guys are going back home?" Sam asked. They nodded. Sam looked at Dean who nodded as well. Both boys hugged their parents tightly and tried to ignore their mother's tears and watched as they all piled into the car that the Tomlenn's had brought, and watched them until they couldn't see them any longer.

"We can call them right?" Dean asked Bobby as he faced out the window.

"Of course you can call them."

"They'll answer right?"

"I'm sure they will."

"So this isn't forever?"

"I can't make any promises." Dean nodded and stood straighter, he refused to cry right now.

"You boys hungry?" Bobby asked tentatively. Dean shook his head.

"Naw, I want to go to bed." Bobby nodded and Sam voiced a similar sentiment. The day had simply been too much.


	24. True Brothers

Bobby showed Dean the room that Sam and Dean would be sharing and Sam stayed downstairs, browsing the books that were sitting on the floor stacked precariously. When Bobby came down the stairs he found Sam sitting there with paper next to him making notes.

"You seem more open to this than your br-" Bobby stopped looked around nervously for a second and then said "Dean."

Sam shrugged. "I don't remember him. I don't remember being taken away from him. So for me this is all kinda interesting, and having him for a brother.." Sam stopped, smiled and continued. "I'm glad. Let's just say that."

"He is a good man." Bobby said.

"You been keeping tabs on us?"

"I have." Bobby took a seat on the couch behind the younger man. "Your parents sent me school pictures, grade cards, sports stuff for your brother, academic achievement stuff for you. It was the deal that we made when your dad gave you guys up. He wanted to know every single thing you guys did and the only stable address we could give them was mine. So I got to see you boys grow up."

"So, our Dad knew what was going on with us?"

"All of the time."

"But he never came to see us?"

"He wanted to. He really did. But he felt it was safest to keep distance between the three of you."

"Because of the prophecy?"

"Yeah."

"What is the prophecy? I mean in its entirety."

"I really would rather wait until Dean was up to tell you." Sam nodded.

"So," Sam started as he started to sketch a symbol onto the paper. "What did Dad think of us?"

"He was proud." Bobby said without hesitation. Sam nodded again and looked back down at the book his was looking through.

All of his life he had wondered about his birth parents, his parents had never kept it a secret that he was adopted and for some reason he had always been proud that he had been chosen by his parents. Other kids were saddled with their parents and their parents with them, but his mom and dad picked him out, and he had always felt special because of it.

But there had always been a part of him that longed to know about his parents and why they gave him up, but now that he knew he found that he really didn't care much and that it really didn't affect him. The only thing that his father had given him that he was really interested in was his brother, who was sitting up in the room the two would share tonight.

"I think I'm going to turn in as well." Sam said and closed the book in his lap.

"Okay. Tomorrow we will start to train. Tell that to Dean for me will ya?"

"Okay. Night."

"Night." Sam picked up his papers and headed up the stairs and went into the room that housed two double beds, one which was occupied with Dean, glasses off and his feet crossed at the ankles.

"Sam?" he questioned.

"Me." Sam moved to the other bed and sat down heavily on the faded bead spread.

"Been one hell of a day." Dean remarked.

"It has."

"What do you think about all of this?"

"I think it is all a lot to take in at once and I'm not sure what to think." Dean nodded taking that information in. "I do know that all of it is strange as hell."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked sitting up and putting his glasses back on.

"Well, I got a brother out of this deal. And I mean…what are the odds of the two of us meeting at Stanford. Out of all of the colleges in the United States, we both got scholarships to Stanford, and we both happen to end up in a Folk Lore class, and we go on a hunt together. We freaking find out that the supernatural does exists together. I guess no matter how hard everyone tried to keep us out of the mess they seem to think we are in, we still got into it."

"It is almost like something was forcing us to be together."

"I know."

"Maybe it was something supernatural. Both of our parents seemed freaked. I think there is a lot more to this story than they are telling us."

"Oh," Sam laughed. "I know so." Sam shrugged and looked at Dean, his older brother and sighed.

"Am I what you wanted?" He had wanted to ask that since he found out Dean was his brother.

"What?"

"Am I the little brother you wanted?"

"I don't even know you very well." Sam nodded taking that to mean that he was not in fact the brother he wanted. Dean shrugged, Sam missed it because he was crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. "I just remember a baby. A baby, that I loved. That I knew was important to my family, and to me." He squinted and shrugged trying to find the right words. "I never really had an idea of who you should be. I have just always thought that there was someone missing from my life. Knowing that you are that missing piece makes me feel a little better. We'll get to know each other. We'll become brothers. True brothers."


	25. Digging

Six o'clock and at the tail end of one of hottest days in South Dakota found Sam and Dean digging their fourth "grave"

Six o'clock and at the tail end of one of hottest days in South Dakota found Sam and Dean digging their fourth "grave". Bobby told them that one of the most common elements to the job was digging a grave and salting and burning the bones. He commented that it wasn't always so easy as just burning the whole house down, so he had handed them both shovels and showed him to four marked out rectangles and told them to start digging and when they saw the end of the green stick, they had dug six feet and to stop. That had been at 7:30 in the morning, it was nearing six in the evening and at this point the burning in their arms was almost constant, the shooting pain straight up their spines were beginning to become like background noise in their heads.

Dean stood straight up and wiped the sweat off of his forehead and took his glasses off for the twentieth time. "Contacts it is from now on." He mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked welcoming the distraction.

"Gonna have to start wearing my blasted contacts again."

"Don't like them?"

"Just a hassle is all. Go on. No need to stop. Get a move on. We have to finish this grave." Sam sighed and got back into the work. Silence, the comfortable silence that had been a part of their work almost all day continued, shovel in, shovel out. "What are you allergic to?"

"What?" Sam asked. He looked at the other man who continued to dig, not looking up at his companion.

"What are you allergic to? Seems as if a brother should know that right away."

"You are asking me this now?" Sam paused shook his head.

"Why not now?"

"Just weird is all."

"Sam. We are two Stanford students. WE are in the middle of South Dakota, voluntarily digging graves. We are not in a forced labor camp. We signed up for this. And you think me asking you, in what you are allergic to is weird? Come on man. You are going to have to readjust your weird meter." Sam chuckled and continued to dig.

"Yeah, I guess you are right there."

"So?"

"Oh, you really do want to know."

"No. I just ask these random things to strangers on the street."

"You are one sarcastic human being."

"I'm only sarcastic when I'm digging my third grave."

"Fourth." That earned Sam a handful of dirt thrown in his face, which led to Sam throwing more dirt in Dean's face, which led to the two of them pouncing on each other play fighting in the fourth of a long series of graves.

"What are you two turkeys doing?" Came a loud voice from above. Both stopped, Sam gripping hair and Dean grabbing shirt glasses akimbo on his face, both looking sheepish.

"ummmm Nothing?" Dean answered.

"It looks like you two boys have enough energy to dig another grave." Bobby grinned. Sam and Dean both grimaced and groaned.

"Bobby, honestly, how many times are we going to have to dig four graves in one night?" Sam asked getting off of Dean.

"One night I dug six graves with another guy, because the whole family was going after people. It happens. Get your asses out of there and get to work on the one at the far side of the yard." Dean got out of the grave first and offered Sam a hand up.

"See if you hadn't been such a bitch and just answered my question we could be inside right now and be getting a shower and going to bed."

"Well if you hadn't been a jerk and thrown dirt at me we could be having dinner right now." Both glared at each other and huffed as they went to the new dig site, and with renewed vigor they launched into digging their fifth grave. Bobby chuckled. Yeah. They were brothers all right.


	26. Proud of Your Boy

A/N: Again so sorry for not posting updates sooner. I live in Ohio and we didn't have power from Sunday until Thursday. Luckily I got to see Lazarus Rising.

* * *

It was most certainly different sharing a bathroom with someone else. Sure, Sam had done it in a group situation at school, but when he was at "home" he was used to getting up and going to his own bathroom, with only HIS things on the counter and not having to figure out what in the hell happened to the toothpaste, or having to wait his turn, or having to share a sink and mirror with someone else. He understood his friends now who complained. He really wanted to complain.

When he drug his ass out of bed the following morning, digging graves put him right to sleep last night, and stumbled to the bathroom to find Dean standing in front of the mirror putting his contacts in, watching it made Sam's stomach a little queasy. He wasn't good with anything near eyes. Once when he had had pink eye, it had taken everything his mother had to pin him down and put drops in them; Sam would always take the nastiest tasting cough syrup over anything involving his eyes.

Dean straightened himself and looked over at the younger. "Bout time you get up."

"Bite me." Sam mumbled and reached for his toothbrush.

"My, my, my, aren't you grumpy in the morning little brother." Sam's eyes slowly slid to the older man, and if looks could kill, Dean would be a pile of ash right there on the bathroom floor.

"Again, I say bite me." he repeated around a mouthful of toothpaste. Dean chuckled and started putting his razor, shaving cream, contact case and solution away.

"I take it you aren't a morning person."

"I'm not a morning person, but I'm especially not a morning person at six in the morning after digging graves until midnight. How long have you been up?" Dean was clean, smelling better than he had the night before, dressed and ready and Bobby had woke Sam up barely five minutes ago.

"I've been up since five."

"Why?" Sam asked after he spit out the mouthful of toothpaste. Dean shrugged and put the last of his supplies away.

"Guess it was just time to get up."

"You are so weird."

"That may be true, but we are blood." Sam shook his head and shoved Dean.

"Get out. I need a shower."

"Yeah, you do smell like death."

"You are just so not funny. Get out." Dean chuckled and left.

When both boys were ready to go, it took Sam over an hour in the bathroom much to Dean's annoyance, they were outside and it looked as if Bobby had set up an obstacle course.

"We in the military or something?" Dean asked casually Texas drawl prominent.

"You are now. You are in the demon hunting boot camp."

"When's shore leave?" Dean asked jokingly.

"Boy. Keep your mouth shut if nothing intelligent is going to come out of it." Dean gave a half satisfied grin. Sam just smacked him in the gut.

"Keep your trap shut or he'll make us dig more graves." Sam whispered.

"Oh grave digging is already on the agenda for tonight." Bobby said.

"Tonight?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Today is testing your endurance. There will be days on a hunt where you are up for over twenty four hours. You'll be up doing research and the rest of the day running around then you will be digging up corpses at night. So we're going to give this a shot today. Plus learn a little Latin along the way."

"Latin?" both boys said in unison.

"Yup, the language of demons and all things powerful. Now get your asses in gear." Bobby ran them all day, through tires, up ropes, across beams, jumping from one stone to another, simple running, and all through it they were expected to learn Latin phrases. Latin phrases that would stop a demon cold in its tracks Bobby said. Then, as promised, they were forced to dig another three graves and then they were allowed to go inside, and get sleep. They went to their rooms stinking of sweat and dirt and their heads swum with Latin, but when they saw their beds they smiled. They didn't even feel sleep over come them at seven in the morning, they just crashed hard and Bobby stood at their door and watched over them for a moment and smiled. John would be proud of his boys.


	27. Latin Class

Dean had taken languages before. He took Spanish in high school then he took French in college, so he wasn't exactly new to this experience, but good golly, trying to learn a dead language was just simply murder.

Bobby enrolled Sam and Dean in a Latin class after their first week of training, both were thoroughly excited for the prospect of doing something other than running, jumping, shooting, and grave digging, so both of them eagerly agreed to learn Latin. But now, after they had spent four hours in a class on a Saturday morning, running on less than three hours sleep (Bobby had them outside tracking an animal in the woods behind his house until nearly dawn) they were working on the lessons that they needed to have prepared for next Saturday's class.

Dean's eyes were tired—they hurt actually. It had been a long time since he had worn his contacts this consistently. He went to rub one and stopped, he felt grit and the lens was cloudy. He took it out and put it on his mouth. Sam looked up, disgust evident on his face.

"Oh that is just nasty Dean." Dean shrugged and took it out of his mouth. "You are not going to put that into your eye." Dean did just that and Sam threw his pencil into the book. "Do you have any idea how many germs are in your mouth? Do you? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to get pink eye because of what you just did?"

"Do you realize how much of a nag you are?" Dean asked.

"I do not nag."

"Dean, don't put that in your mouth. Dean must you leave your dirty socks in the sink. Dean clean up your mess. Dean…" Dean said in a poor imitation of his brother.

"I do not sound like that."

Dean snorted. "You obviously don't listen to yourself that often."

"I so did not sign up for this."

"What?"

"Being treated like a child."

"I am older than you."

"But you treat me like an idiot. Except when we're training, then you expect me to keep up with you and make fun of me when I don't."

"We have to work in tandem Sam."

"Sure. But it has to be YOUR pace."

"I move quicker."

"Bull Shit."

"Don't take that tone with me."

"You aren't my father."

"I'm your brother."

"Doesn't mean you get to treat me like an idiot."

"That's the job of older brothers."

"Than maybe I don't want one." Dean stopped, licked his lips, and threw his pencil into the book. Sam realized his mistake. "Look, Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"There was no other way to mean it Sammy." Dean stood and started for the door. Sam's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I'm sorry. I'm tired. I didn't mean it."

"I'm just going to go out and get some air. I think we've been cooped up together too long." The door banged as the door shut behind him. Sam slumped back down into his chair, sighed and ran frustrated hands through his hair. He was not used to being a sibling, much less a younger sibling; he wasn't used to someone feeling like they could boss him around. He was so tired.

Dean went straight to the garage portion of Singer Salvage and went to work on a car that he had overheard Bobby talking about. He needed his hands on something, he needed to work on something and not go back in there and pack his bags and go back to Texas and try to live the life he had had before he met Sam, before he had gone ghost hunting, before he had learned the truth. But, he realized as he loosened the bolt on engine that that would be running away, and he had never run away from anything in his whole life. And there was absolutely no reason he should be running now, he had family in there. Honest to God family. That was something to hold on to with both hands. He should go back in there, apologize to Sam and accept his apology in return and just get his ass in gear on that Latin, before Bobby thought of something else to do to them. Bobby had said something about lack of upper body strength and Dean was a little concerned as to what Bobby would make them do to achieve that upper body strength.

"I thought I put you to work on Latin young man." Bobby said and startled Dean and he cracked his head on the hood of the car.

"I needed air." Bobby chuckled.

"Your daddy always came out here and worked on a car when he needed air."

"He did?" Dean asked mildly curious to learn more about the man who gave them up.

"Yeah. Owned a garage before you momma died. Well owned half I suppose. But when things got tough and he needed a break, or just time to think, he'd pick a car and come out here and work on her."

"My Dad," Dean stopped and chuckled "Logan and I fixed up the Impala. Made her a project."

"I know. And son, he is your dad. You don't have to call him by his first name."

"You know?"

"Yeah. Johnny arranged it so you and your daddy could have it to work on together. That Impala has been in the Winchester family since before you boys were born." That stopped Dean in his tracks.

"What?"

"John wrecked it just so you and your daddy could fix it." Dean took in that information. He wasn't sure if he should feel betrayed or thankful. He looked up at Bobby. "So, working on cars must be in the Winchester blood."

"It's not Bobby." Sam said entering the garage. Dean looked at Sam for a second and went and grabbed a towel to wipe the grease from his hands. "I don't know the difference between a carburetor and a fuel injector. Dumb as a post about that stuff." Sam looked at both older men and said, "So the Impala, is family right?"

"Yeah, if you consider inanimate objects family." Dean said with a laugh.

"Both of you were brought home from the hospital in that car." Dean's face froze.

"I sat on that car with Dad and you while watching the house burn up, with mom inside." Dean swallowed hard, and Sam realized just how difficult that memory must be.

"I'm sorry Dean."

"I'm sorry too Sam."

"You boys are breaking my heart, but shouldn't the two of you be working on some Latin?" Both boys shoulders slumped. "Or we could be doing some serious upper body work."

"Come on Sammy. I think you need to help me figure out that conjugation."

"Yeah. That's right. Let's go do that." Dean patted Sam on the back as they exited the garage.

Every day they struggled, and Bobby watched. They struggled with getting to know each other as well as getting to know the supernatural world. Bobby sighed; he hoped they would be ready for what was to come.

A/N: I have really watched people do that with their contacts. :smile:


	28. Mothers

Days without the boys were rare for Bobby. But today, he had them out running in the woods, trying to figure out his booby traps and how to avoid them. So, today he was going to put his feet up and relax and enjoy the day. No work. No Winchesters. No hunting. Just watching the television and relaxing.

He sought his recliner and had the newspaper in his hand and was just leaning back and propping his feet up on the ottoman when there was a knock on his door. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, it never stopped. Ever since those Winchesters had come to live with him, he never got a moments peace.

Standing on his porch were two weary looking mothers. Anna and Sarah had done well by not coming and checking on the boys as often as they would have liked, and they each refrained from calling their boys every single day, instead they let the boys call them on their own terms. So, when he saw the two women standing there looking at him worriedly he couldn't find an ounce of surprise in his whole body.

"Anna, Sarah. What a surprise."

"I hope it is okay that we came Bobby." Anna said. "We really miss our children and wanted to come visit them." She tried to look around Bobby. "Are they here?" she asked.

"Come on in." Bobby said and opened the door wide for the two women. "The boys are out training. They will be back by supper time. Dean is very insistent that supper always be in the equation somehow." Anna laughed and the laugh held relief like it usually held joy.

"That is my Dean." Bobby looked at the two women skeptically. The silence in the room was oppressive and the two women glanced at each other from time to time trying to figure out what to say to the man that, for so many years, they had spoken to without any hesitation or worry. Bobby Singer had been their go to guy for everything supernatural, and he helped them take care of their boys, but now that he was their soul provider they both felt out of place and unwanted in their son's new lives.

"The boys have been complaining about my cooking." He admitted. "I think that they could use some decent food in their stomachs. They will be home by dusk if you want to stay and fix dinner." Bobby offered. Both women relaxed immediately.

"That would be perfect. I could make Sam his favorite. Grilled chicken and rice." Sarah said.

"I'll make Dean lasagna." Bobby grinned inwardly at their sudden ease. Mothers went straight for the kitchen and assessed the cupboards and when they decided that there wasn't the right things for the meals they wished to prepare for their sons they waved a quick good bye and went in search of a grocery store.

Taking a nap hadn't exactly been in the plan when the women left, but apparently it had worked its way there, and when he woke he was surprised to find that Anna and Sarah had been shopping, come back, and were preparing meals as they quietly spoke in the kitchen.

Listening to them, he found himself a little worried about their reunions with their children. Sam and Dean had done a lot of growing up in the month and a half they had been under Bobby's tutelage.

Bobby didn't have a great deal of time to worry about the reunions because he heard Sam and Dean loudly talking and laughing. When it came to hunting the boys, as Bobby was so fondly beginning to call them, could be so quiet that you didn't hear them until they were right on your shoulder, right at your ear with a gun pointed to your head, but when they weren't hunting, when they were just being boys, they were loud and raucous and completely unable to surprise anyone with their presence. The door flew open and the talking became clear and louder.

"I still so cannot believe that you went to a private school dude."

"I did. Tie, blazer the whole nine yards."

"I bet you looked like such a dwebe." Dean laughed. Both boys stopped, went ramrod straight, and Bobby was positive he saw Dean's hand go to the small of his back where he kept the gun that Bobby gave him a couple of weeks after they had arrived.

"Dean!"

"Sam!" Female voices yelled. Pots were abandoned, and the two mothers rushed out of the kitchen to greet their sons. When Dean saw his mother, his body relaxed, his hand moved away from the gun and he smiled. Bobby was amazed at how well the boy had taken to his training, ALL of his training. Dangerous one minute, innocent the next. Dean was a natural at the people part of the job, while Sam was a natural at the research and lore end of the deal. Together the two of them were going to be a formidable pair.

Sam and Dean threw their arms around their diminutive mothers and squeezed them tight. Anna pulled out of her son's hug and took him all in. He was much tanner than he had been when she last saw him, wasn't wearing his glasses, he needed a shave, and he was much more muscular than he had been when she left him. Sarah looked at Anna after she too pulled away from her son, and both mothers knew right then that they had lost their babies, that they had lost the boys that they raised, hunters had taken their places.

"Is that lasagna I smell?" Dean asked and moved away from his mother and towards the kitchen.

"Yes it is." Anna said with a smile. Dean opened the oven door and went for a fork. He was hit over the head with a pot holder and he jumped.

"Mom! Why'd you do that?"

"You were not raised in a barn. You do not just open the oven door and eat out of the pan. Get up stairs and clean up. You are not coming to dinner that filthy. What did you do all day? Waller in the mud?" she asked indicating his shirt and hair.

"If Bobby thought for a second that there might be a mud spirit that we would have to waller in the mud to banish, yeah, we would be rolling around in the mud."

"Go. Now. Wash up. Change those clothes. You are a disgrace." She said playfully. Dean smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Come on Sammy, our mother's are banishing us until we are clean."

"No. Your mom banished you. I'm okay." He said with a smirk. Sarah reached and hit her son with the spatula that was in her hand. "Owww! Mom!" he said rubbing the spot on his arm.

"Go. Just because I didn't say it doesn't mean that you shouldn't follow the same directions. You are filthy. Go. Shave while you are up there. You are a ragamuffin. I did not raise you to look like you were a homeless man. Go!" Sam, thoroughly chastised turned to his brother who was smirking and hit him hard on the chest.

"Shut up." Sam said and moved past him and headed up the stairs. Laughter and sounds of punching came to the ears of the adults as the boys moved upstairs and out of sight.

Playfulness that had inhabited both women just moments ago vanished and they each turned a worried set of eyes to Bobby.

"Are they really okay?"

"They are fine Anna.'

"Why does Dean carry a gun in his jeans?"

"Protection."

"Protection from what?"

"Whatever may come this way and harm him or his brother."

"Sam looks….different." Sarah said twisting the spatula in her hands.

"He's grown." Bobby said. "That boy grew another two inches. He had to go out and buy new jeans. Loves to mock Dean. Dean is definitely the shorter of the two now." Bobby laughed.

"They look alike." Anna said softly.

"That they do."

"Dean's hair is too short."

"He wanted it shaved to almost nothing. But Sam convinced him that he would look like an idiot."

"He has never…even when he was younger…he never wanted hair that short. We argued once about him having long hair….I just never…when the boys at school shaved their heads for team spirit, Dean never did. But…"

"He's growing up Anna."

"He's changing into someone I don't know." She said right as the boys started bounding down the stairs, much cleaner, in different clothes and Sam definitely shaved. Sarah caught something out of the corner of her eye when Sam was buttoning his shirt up.

"What is that?" she asked calmly and in three long strides met her son.

"What's what?" he asked confused. She pulled his shirt back and found a tattoo.

"What the hell did you do to yourself Sam?!"

"It's for protection." He said quickly. "Protection from demonic possession." Sarah looked back at Anna and Dean pulled his shirt down a little as well.

"We both got them. Bobby told us about how to prevent it, and we thought it was best to just get them tattooed on. That way no demon could take them away from us and make us their bitch." Dean said and let go of his shirt. Both women starred at them stunned. With every new revelation the boys became less and less like the children they had raised.

"Mom. It's no big deal." Sam said with worry etched across his features. He didn't understand why his mother was taking this so badly. It wasn't as if they got something tattooed all over their chests. Just a simple pentagram on the chest to prevent demons from making them do something they would regret later. When his mother didn't seem to want to move or say anything else, Sam forced a smile and said, "Mom that chicken sure smells good. Can I have some now?" Sarah blinked and that seemed to set the whole group back in motion. Anna turned from her son and both women continued the motions of cooking, however, there wasn't any smiling, laughing and talking. They were simply getting food ready for the men.

The table was silent for a while as all ate their shares of the smorgasbord that was laid out before them.

"Have you registered for classes yet?" Sarah asked Sam. Sam put his fork down, took his napkin out of his lap and wiped his mouth and shook his head.

"No. I'm not going to."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not going to school this year. I don't know when I'm going to go back." Sarah put her fork down and looked at Anna briefly and then starred at Sam open mouthed.

"I thought that this was just for the summer."

"I told you and Dean, that I would think about it."

"I've argued with him about it Mrs. Tomlenn. He doesn't want to go back. He won't listen to reason either."

"Why do you keep acting like I'm a little kid who doesn't know what he's doing?"

"Because Sam you are passing up a Stanford education for one that has no practical application outside of the supernatural world."

"It is my life."

"I know that."

"Then I can do what I want."

"But it is a decision that could cost you later."

"I can go back to college any time I want. It isn't like there is an age limit."

"But Sam."

"Dean. We've talked about this. It is my decision and I've decided that I am not going back to school right now."

"Sam…."

"Don't give me that speech about being young and not knowing what I'm doing. If I'm old enough to watch your back then I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"Fine, Sam. I just…"

"I know. You don't agree with me, and from the look of it my mother agrees with you, but I really don't care. It is my decision. I want to hunt and figure out this prophecy that we are stuck in. I just have a feeling that this is more important than any class that I will ever sit through in my life. Respect that I know what I'm doing."

"Okay Sam. You're right. I do respect that you know what you want. I just want…"

"I know you want the best for me. But I think this is the best for me right now." Dean nodded and took another bite of the lasagna. Anna and Sarah sat there wide eyed. "The answer is no mom, I'm not going to school this year, and I don't know when if ever I'll go back." He said with an air of finality and shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. Bobby looked at the mothers and then to the sons, both who had their heads looking at their food and pushing it around on their plates.

"So, how about them Dodgers?" Bobby tried.


	29. Church

Their mothers stayed through the weekend. Bobby let them out of their Latin work on Saturday, and they all went to a movie and partook in the sunshine. While they sat at the theater, Sam found himself itching to get up and move, he wanted to do something physical, wanted to be working on his Latin, working on his Greek, something, anything, he felt like he was wasting precious time sitting there watching a movie about two actors who meant nothing in the grand scheme of the world.

He felt the time slipping through his fingers and he wanted out of the theater, he wanted to get back to his training, and he spared a glance at his brother who was next to his own mother and the two of them caught each other's gaze. In the month and a half they had been training together, they had learned how to read the other. Dean's expression revealed that he would rather be training, learning, and practicing. He gave Sam a look that indicated that he needed to stay quiet and at least pretend that he was enjoying the movie that was playing out in front of them.

Their mothers had again fixed them a fine supper and the boys tried to engage in pleasant conversation this time. They wanted to enjoy the time spent, but both boys had to concentrate on not letting their knees bounce underneath the table.

Anna and Sarah went to bed that night, kissed their sons on the cheeks, and as soon as the women were asleep, Sam and Dean put on shirts, jeans, and shoes and hurried outside and back into the obstacle course that was set up in the woods, and they spent hours running together, making it through the woods, and all of the traps that were there, getting each other out of the traps they didn't know about. Before they knew it dawn was just over the horizon. They came back tired but content. The training had done them good, however, it did not make for two happy mothers.

Church, like most Sundays wasn't an option. Dean and Sam had decided when they started training with Bobby that it would be best to seek a higher power so they didn't get quagmired in the evil that they would be fighting. Together they had chosen an Episcopalian church not too terribly far from Bobby's house, but today they were being separated and forced to go the churches of their youth. Mothers insisted. Sons obeyed. After church they got their gear together and both mothers kissed their sons again, each shedding a tear or two and left them to each other and to their training. Difficult didn't begin to describe how it affected the brothers.

Sam and Dean spent most of the day silent and doing basic household chores that they always did on Sundays after church. Bobby simply eyed them as they moved back and forth through the house, cleaning, doing laundry, standing by the sink and eating a sandwich. They each were missing a piece of themselves it seemed. Each seemed a little lost. Bobby sighed and wondered just how much work lie ahead for him.

Sam opened the bedroom door that he and Dean shared and put his clothes on the bed. Dean looked up from his book and watched his little brother.

"What's the matter?" Dean asked closing the magazine.

"Just thinking."

"Looks like you are thinking awful hard about something."

"My mother looked at me today like I was someone completely different. Like a stranger."

"We can't blame them."

"What do you mean?"

"We've changed a lot in the last couple of months. Would you have stood up to your mom last year?" Sam stopped and thought about it.

"No I guess I wouldn't have."

"A year ago I wouldn't have gotten my hair cut any shorter than it was when you met me. But, for me it just isn't functional having all of that hair while I hunt. That is something that my mom even mentioned. We've both changed for practical reasons and simply because we learned we are brothers."

"We changed because we found out we are brothers?" Sam asked and sat down on the bed facing his brother. He sat there dumbfounded and water dripped off of his hair onto his muscular chest.

"Yeah, we have Sam. Little ways. Ways that I can't even really point to. But our moms felt it. They felt us pulling away from them into a life that they hadn't led, a life they only know a little about, they must feel like they are loosing us."

"But we are right here."

"You wanted out of that theater as much as I did. I haven't been that restless at a movie since I was three."

"Me either."

"Hunting is changing us Sam. Our relationship is changing us as individuals. It is going to hurt. It's going to be like puberty all over again." Dean smirked. "But seriously. I don't know about you. But I can't go back to being innocent. I know what's out there and I want to take care of it, prophecy or no prophecy." Dean looked down and then back at Sam. "And I could never go back to being an only child." Sam swallowed.

"Me either." Dean broke eye contact first.

"Get yourself situated, I want sleep. I think Bobby has something particularly grueling for us to do in the morning, and something tells me it will be early. Like pre dawn early." Sam groaned and threw his clothes on the floor next to his bed, and switched off the lamp beside his bed.

"Night."

"Night."


	30. Lessons

"What the hell are you trying to do to us Bobby?" Sam demanded as he took the towel roughly from the older man's hands.

"Water is part of the job." He said with no remorse. Sam stopped wiping the water off of his face and starred down at his teacher.

"You tried to drown me." Sam's voice hit a new level of amazed.

"That kind of stuff happens out there Sam. Ghosts just don't stop because you hit water, and there are some creatures out there that live in the water. You have to know how to save yourself."

"But you said Dean and I would hunt together. Why didn't he have to go out there today and almost drown?"

"Just because the two of you are going to hunt together doesn't mean you two are going to be glued to each other's hips. Dean is doing his own training at the moment."

"I bet he doesn't have to almost die."

"Sam."

"All right, all right." He said in a huff. One thing that Sam had learned while staying with Bobby was that Bobby hated it when people whined and he only took so much before there was either yelling or significantly more training, so Sam shut up this time when Bobby growled his warning, and went to their room to clean up and get ready for bed.

Sam tried to sleep because he knew that they had a long day of training ahead of them tomorrow especially with Sam's poor performance in the water today. It probably meant that they would have to do like two million laps around the lake, he was going to be so sore tomorrow, and Dean would probably complain. Hell, he would complain if he had to do laps around the lake because Dean couldn't handle himself during a water test. That was what was irking Sam in reality. He thought that he could handle himself. He knew, until this morning, that he could handle just about anything the supernatural could throw at him. He and Dean had been talking the other morning while they were getting ready for the day at some ugodly morning hour that they thought they were ready to go on hunts by themselves, they felt like they had completed their training. Today, however, he learned his lesson about being overconfident. He wasn't ready to be out there on his own yet.

He sighed, rolled over and came face to face with Dean's empty bed. Looking at the clock Sam noted that it was past midnight and Bobby had stressed that being out after midnight was dangerous, that most of the really bad stuff was let loose at that hour and that neither of them should be out at that time unless they were hunting. Sam turned away from the bed, telling himself it wasn't important, that Bobby had probably sent him on an errand for the day and that it was lasting much later than anticipated and it was nothing to worry about.

1 AM still no Dean, Sam started pacing.

2 AM no Dean, Sam went downstairs and looked for the Impala in the junk yard

3 AM no Dean, Sam called his brother's cell phone. No answer. Worry increases tenfold.

4 AM no Dean, no phone call, Sam had called every five minutes for an hour and has received nothing but voice mail. Sam's fingernails on his right hand are almost gone.

5 AM no Dean, Sam pacing, becoming sick worry, has thrown up in the sink at least once in the last hour.

6 AM no Dean, Bobby wakes, Sam slams him in a wall and demands to know where his brother is.

Bobby allows himself to be thrust into the wall and he found himself frightened at the intensity of Sam's eyes.

"Where is my brother!?" Sam demanded.

"He's taking care of something."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I don't have to answer any of your questions boy. He is taking care of something. He'll be back by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"He better be okay."

"Was that a threat?" Bobby asked calmly. Sam's eyes searched like he was looking inside himself for that answer and he swallowed thickly and let go of Bobby's shirt and backed up, pinched the bridge of his nose and both hands found their way to his narrow hips.

"I'm sorry Bobby."

"You're just worried."

"I'm scared to death."

"Good." Sam turned around and looked at Bobby shocked. "I want you two to worry about each other like this. You need to. You want to move don't you? Want to do something?"

"I feel like a caged tiger. I've never felt like this before."

"You and Dean share something that most brothers will never."

"What are you talking about? We've been deprived of things that most brothers take for granted."

"You two have been touched by an evil that no one else can fathom, and you two are being trained to be a unit. Two people acting as one, so when one is removed the other feels lost and caged." Sam straightened up and looked at Bobby incredulously.

"You knew we would be like this?" he asked accusatory.

"I did."

"Why in the hell did you do this to us?"

"It is needed."

"Needed? I need to feel like a part of me is missing? Dean needs to feel like that?"

"Is he dead?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"I am."

"Why are you worried?"

"He must be scared."

"You know that for sure?"

"No. I don't know for sure."

"Then why do you say that?"

"Because I know him."

"What is his favorite color?"

"I don't know…who the hell cares?" Sam asked not understanding the line of questioning. Bobby simply smiled. "What is so funny?"

"You two are definitely connected."

"What? What in the world are you talking about?" Sam asked frustrated.

"Go get dressed, put your boots on, socks, and a coat. You are going swimming."

"But."

"Now boy. I've put up with just about all I will put up with today. Move." Sam swallowed down his defiance, tried to swallow the worry, and went upstairs to change.

All day he worried about Dean. Worried as he swam, worried as Bobby yelled at him for not moving as fast as he should, worried as he ran laps around Bobby's 6 acre property, and worried as he ate. He called Dean every spare chance he got and Bobby took his phone from him and demanded that he quit worrying.

Sleeping was a joke. For the second night in a row he didn't get any sleep. He was pacing their room when he heard the growl of the Impala as it drove up to the house and Sam flew down the stairs and was in front of his brother before he got out of the car.

"Are you hurt?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"No. Just very sore." Dean got out of the car and Sam hovered all of the way inside. As soon as he sat down Sam started with the questions.

"Where have you been?"

"On a hunt."

"By yourself?" Sam yelled.

"It was part of my training."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Get me a beer or something." Sam ignored him and started checking him over for wounds. "Sam." Dean said exasperated. "I'm fine."

"You can't be fine. I see a bruise on the back of your neck."

"The ghost didn't want to be put to rest. Sort of threw me against a tree." Sam's eyes widened. "You know. All of those horror flicks I've watched, you know where the girl or the guy gets thrown into the wall and they stay there looking pretty and manage to say something like 'I'm gonna get you, you evil son of a bitch'. Obviously have no clue what it is like to be thrown against something. I wasn't able to breathe, it sucked. I couldn't get out help much less a threat." He said and rubbed his forehead. "Other than my pride and a few bruises, I'm okay though Sammy."

Sam finally sat down in front of him. "So you got it right?"

"Salted and burned." Dean confirmed.

"Why did he send you on your own?"

"We were talking the other day, and I mentioned that I thought we were done with training that we took out a ghost before the training, and since we had had all of this training that we were ready. We aren't Sam. We aren't ready for this."

"But you were by yourself this time."

"And if you would have been with me, one of us probably would have ended up more hurt. I can't risk that. I can't risk loosing you. I learned my lesson. We need a lot more training." Sam starred at Dean, there was a lot more to this hunting thing than either of them had originally thought. For the moment, Sam was simply thankful that Dean was alive. For right now that was all that he could manage. The other thoughts, the other possibilities were just to ghastly and worrisome to contemplate.


	31. Long Haul

Snow drifted lazily on the South Dakota road, spreading its calm over the residents, keeping them indoors sipping hot cocoa and watching the snow drift down from their nice safe homes.

The fluffy precipitation collected on mailboxes, homes, cars, well all except for one car that was zipping down the deserted road at speeds that were not safe in weather conditions such as these.

Sam Winchester glanced in the rearview mirror several times, ensuring that Dean was still there, that he was still conscious, that he was still alive.

"Just drive Sammy." He grunted in pain. "It won't help me if you get us into a car accident. Just stay close to Bobby." Dean's voice cut out and Sam looked back again, scared that his brother wasn't as fine as he claimed to be.

They had been hunting a Windego, they were out of season, per Bobby, but that sure as hell didn't stop it from dragging Dean off to be its potential meal. Finding him strung up in the cave had been enough to make Sam want to stop hunting, take Dean and run back to their nice normal lives. It was enough to make him question whether or not they should be following this supposed prophecy.

So, here he was, driving the Impala and still not fully understanding why they weren't driving to the nearest hospital and instead driving back to the salvage yard. Dean had told him through a wave of pain to not question and to just listen to Bobby, he knew best, and that he wouldn't' steer them wrong, and that was simply the only reason he was following. Every instinct blared in him that he should be taking Dean to a hospital, but because of the trust he had for Bobby and for Dean, he did as instructed.

Back at the salvage yard, it had taken both Sam and Bobby to lift Dean out of the car and get him into the house, and into his own bed.

"Watch Sam." Bobby said and started feeling along Dean's chest. "No breaks." He said aloud for Sam and Dean's benefit. He passed a hand along Dean's arms and legs. "Bruises only." He touched Dean's left shoulder and he screamed. "Dislocation. Come here Sam." Sam did as instructed. "Now brace him against your shoulder. There, like that." Bobby positioned himself behind Dean. "Now, this will happen more often than you really want. So, this is something you need to learn. Watch carefully. When you two are on the road by yourselves, you will have to brace him against a chair or a wall, but once he is braced like his against you, you push." As Bobby said the word he pushed on Dean's shoulder and popped it back into place. The scream that emitted from Dean was ear splitting. Tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down his face. "You okay son?" Bobby asked. Dean nodded, his voice had flown away from him. Sam wasn't so convinced.

"Shouldn't he be in a hospital, where someone can do this professionally? I mean he's in pain. He should have pain meds for this."

"He's fine. I was a medic in the war." He said and looked back at Dean who looked close to passing out. "Besides when we start stitching up those wounds on his chest he'll pass out sure enough."

"What? We are going to stitch these up?"

"Don't argue with him Sammy." Dean said weakly.

"What the hell?! Why aren't we taking him to the hospital?"

"Because Sammy, how do we explain these wounds? Huh? A big wild cat ate me? They won't believe that." Dean said weakly. "Just some Jack and I'll be okay. Pass out hopefully." He mumbled, eyes drifting shut with the pain.

Dean took a swig of the alcohol as Sam threaded a needle with shaky hands. "Shouldn't you do this Bobby?" Sam asked.

"You are going to be the one with him most of the time. You need to learn how to do this."

"I've never had any training to do this."

"That's why I'm letting you do this now."

"It's going to leave a scar."

"Damnit Sammy, just start stitching. The anticipation is going to knock me out way before your stitching skills will." Dean said from the bed. Sam licked his lips, sighed out his frustration and some of the fear, and followed Bobby's instructions, while wincing with every single sharp intake of Dean's breath. Dean wasn't lucky enough to pass out while they were stitching, his body made him stay awake through the whole thing and only when completed did he finally pass out.

After cleaning up the mess in the bedroom and tucking Dean into bed Bobby forced Sam to go downstairs.

"You don't need to hover."

"But."

"But nothing boy. He's fine. He needs rest. And you need a drink." Bobby took the younger one into the kitchen and poured him a glass of something strong, Sam drank it greedily, and screwed his eyes shut as it burned down his throat.

"I don't know about doing this Bobby."

"Doing what?"

"Hunting."

"You two made the decision. You can quit anytime. You are not obligated to do this. Hell we tried to keep you as out of it as long as possible."

"I know that. I just thought that it would be—"

"Easier?"

"Yeah, because the hunt Dean and I went on, that first time was just simple. Well not simple but neither of us got hurt like this. And I wasn't nearly as scared."

"Ignorance is bliss kid." Sam chuckled.

"Never thought of it that way."

"I be you didn't. The two of you went out there with no idea if what you were looking for was even real. You two were just trying stuff out for the sake of trying it out. You two had no idea the potential danger you two were in. Now you do, and that breeds fear. As you hunt more it gets easier, and you don't panic quite so easily."

"Does the fear ever go away?"

"Son, you don't want it to go away."

"Why?"

"It keeps you from doing something stupid. Your brother up there needs a little more fear pounded into his body before he goes hunting full time. I think what happened to him today will move that along."

"I just hope we are doing the right thing."

"Look at it this way. Every time you kill something evil, you are saving some innocent person's life. You are saving people, and that is the true perk of the job." Sam rolled the words over in his head.

"I've never saved anyone before."

"Well the first hunt you and Dean went on, saved some poor idiot's life, and tonight, you just made the woods safer for a lot of campers next year. Kinda makes everything bearable doesn't it?" Sam nodded and looked at his glass and then back at Bobby. "Now, kid, you are underage, why would I let you have more of the hard stuff?" Sam laughed, exactly what Bobby had been going for. "You think you want to stay in the hunt?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think, at least for now." Bobby heard the option. He knew that Sam was trying to keep himself open for the possibility of going back to Stanford and being Joe College. But Bobby knew, deep in his gut, that Sam Winchester was in this for the long haul.


	32. The Talk

Sam sat beside Dean's bed while he slept and watched the snow drift down lazily. Bobby had given Sam a reprieve from training, it could have had something to do with the fact that he refused to do anything without Dean at his side, or it could have just been because the older man could see the bone weariness in his eyes. Sam didn't really care which, he just cared that he was sitting in the chair waiting for his brother to wake up.

The rustling of bed clothes alerted Sam to Dean slowly coming back into the land of the living. He turned away from the window and watched as Dean's eyes fluttered open then shut, and then fluttered again, this time eyes staying open for seconds longer, hands going to his eyes and taking a swipe at them.

"Crap." He muttered and sat up as gently as he could, trying not to pop his stitches or use the shoulder that had been damaged by the freak they were hunting.

"You okay?"

"Shouldn't have fallen asleep with contacts in." he mumbled.

"You needed the sleep." Sam said distantly.

"Bathroom?" Dean asked and Sam jumped up and helped his brother to the bathroom and then back to the bed, and got him nestled back under the covers. "My glasses are in the top drawer of the dresser if you wouldn't mind." Sam went and retrieved them and handed them to his brother. Dean tried to smile but it came out closer to a grimace rather than a smile. Sam's brow crinkled in worry. Dean put a hand up to stop him from coming closer. "Thanks. I just moved wrong. I'm good now. No need to hover so much."

"I'm your brother."

"I get that."

"I'm supposed to worry."

"You read that?" Dean said trying to make light of the serious situation.

"I feel it." Dean looked at the boy with floppy hair and found he didn't quite know how to respond so he kept quiet. He felt the same draw, the same pull that Sam did, and he didn't understand it yet. At times it bothered him, he had never ever felt this close to another human being in his entire life. And the power that Sam had over him made him do stupid things like throw himself in front of crazy creatures in order to keep Sam safe and protected. He wondered, a lot actually, if that was normal. Did everyone feel this close to their sibling? Dean had never even felt this close to his parents, and they had loved and raised him.

"Bobby gave me something." Sam said out of the blue. Dean startled a little and looked over to the younger man.

"What?"

"He gave me something while you were sleeping."

"Okay?" Dean said missing the significance of this particular revelation.

"It is our dad's hunting journal."

"His hunting journal?" He asked. He and Sam kept notes on every single thing they hunted, but he for some reason he never thought of other hunters keeping a record of the things they had hunted, and he most certainly never expected to see the one that his father used.

"Yeah. Bobby said that he wanted me to have it like he wanted you to have the car."

"What does it say?"

"A lot. Mostly about monsters and other hunters he met. But in the back there is stuff about us. Little things about us growing up."

"Like what?" Dean said suddenly curious. Sam stood and retrieved the brown leather journal from the window sill at the other end of the room and sat down on the bed next to his brother. He flipped through several pages and finally landed on one.

"Well here it says, _ I talked to Bobby today. The boys are doing really well. Hear that Dean is learning to ride a horse and Sam is entering kindergarten this year. Bobby says the boys are happy and healthy. I hope it's true._' There are a couple of pictures in here of us growing up, both of our prom pictures, a copy of both acceptance letters from Stanford. It looks like he was really proud of us Dean." Dean's heart warmed and he felt the heat radiate throughout his body. "I just really wish I could have met him before he died."

"I wish I remembered him."

"You don't remember anything?" Sam prodded.

"No. Really, truly, all I remember is you. All I remember is knowing that I felt like I was missing someone, and I knew that was you. I don't remember much about Dad. I remember a shape, but nothing more." Sam nodded and looked back down at the journal.

"The two of you have similar handwriting."

"Really?" Sam laughed.

"Yeah. You do." Both brothers were silent for a moment.

"Anything about the prophecy?"

"Yeah." Sam said. He had been waiting for the question.

"What does it say?"

"That I will be the antichrist."

"What?" Sam shrugged, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That seems to be why they wanted to keep us out of this life. Apparently, I'm tainted. Some freaking demon put blood into my mouth as a baby."

"That doesn't mean anything Sam."

"Doesn't it? I'm not so sure Dean."

"Well if that is the case why did they make sure to keep the two of us away from each other? Seems to me like that would be a damn good reason to keep us together."

"The prophecy reads like something out of Oedipus Rex. It says that younger will kill the older and that in his grief he will turn to the dark side and hell will rise up and rule again." Dean starred hard at Sam, who was refusing to look at his older brother.

"That's bull shit."

"That's what Oedipus said right before he found out he married his mother and had children with her you know, fulfilling the prophecy."

"I don't believe in fate. I make my own choices, what happens to me is my choice."

"But if this is true, then I have demon blood in me, that might force our hand."

'What are you talking about?"

"What if circumstances make it so you have to either kill me or die trying? What are you going to do?"

"There will never be that circumstance."

"How do you know that?" Dean's stomach burned. He didn't know that for sure. There was no way to know that for sure, but somewhere in his gut he knew that he wouldn't' allow that to happen, he had Sammy back and he wasn't about to shirk his responsibility and lose him now. Responsibility….when had Sammy become his responsibility to protect? It felt right and felt like it was supposed to be that way, but he, for the life of him, couldn't figure out when that had become so.

"I just know Sam. I won't let it happen."

"I don't want to kill you."

"You won't Sam."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this?"

"What if that makes the prophecy come true?"

"How?"

"If we part ways and go back to our normal every day lives then I won't be there to protect you and you could well…fall victim to the prophecy. I think we are safest doing what we are doing right now Sammy." Sam bit his bottom lip thinking about his brother's words. He didn't know how true they were, didn't know how right his brother was, but he felt the sincerity and the honesty behind them. Was that enough? Would his brother be enough to stop this from happening? He had been thinking about what demon blood meant since his read the prophecy hours ago. Why would any demon want to do that? What could they gain by doing it? Sam doubted that his brother could stop a demon from claiming his prize, but he didn't' know enough right now to make any assumptions and what Dean was saying was making some sense. Sam decided that he would simply have to be more cautious and pay more attention to the reasons behind his actions. Sam slowly gave a nod to his brother.

"Okay. One condition." Sam said quietly.

"What?"

"If I start to go dark. You have to stop me."

"What do you mean stop?"

"I mean stop me in any way you can. Do not sacrifice yourself for me."

"Sam."

"Promise me."

"I don't…" he hesitated.

"You either promise me right now, or I will leave tonight and go back to Nebraska." Dean looked into Sam's eyes and saw the honest and the determination in them. He swallowed, realizing he was being forced into this agreement and not liking it one bit.

"Okay Sam." He said reluctantly. "Only if there is no other way." Sam nodded. The clock ticked loudly on the dresser, it seemed to be counting down to something, something terrible and both brothers knew it.


	33. It Starts

Dean was out of commission for a couple of weeks, but Bobby wouldn't allow Sam to take the same amount of time off. Sam had training that needed done, and he would be forced to outside in the freezing South Dakota winter, and run laps and lift weights and perform all of the strange tasks that Bobby would put him to, all the while Dean was expected to research hunts for other hunters, and to read up on spirits, demons and the like while he was recuperating. Bobby didn't allow for slacking.

So, when the night came and the two boys were expected to be in bed, they were, and exhausted from their respective assignments. Usually Sam fell asleep quickly and without a problem. Dean realized, a couple of weeks ago, that he waited for the sound of Sam's breathing to even out into sleep before he would turn over and try for sleep as well. At first, it had bothered him, and he had tried to go to sleep before Sam, or try not to pay attention to the rhythm of his brother's breath, but it never worked. Consistently he waited for his brother to fall asleep before he would do the same. Often, Dean wondered if that was normal—if all brothers and sisters did that. It didn't take long for him, with the aid of some of his friends, to realize that it wasn't the norm.

After speaking with Bobby at some length, he realized that it wasn't just the familial bond that made him do that, it was the fact that they were in a situation where life and death were real concepts, real dangers lurked out in the dark, and Dean seemed to have a heightened sense of protection, and that he had focused all of that energy on Sam. Bobby said that it was a good thing especially with the prophecy out there, for demons to hear, and other hunters for that matter. Sam was going to need all of the protection he could get, and that it was best for Dean to keep an eye on the boy.

So, here he was, the third night in a row, waiting patiently for Sam to fall asleep. He had been having nightmares lately and was waking up frequently. Tonight was no different. Dean woke with a start as he heard Sam fall out of the bed. He hurried to his brother. He woke Sam up. Sam's eyes wouldn't focus. His eyes finally focused on Dean's. They held fear and anxiety. His face was beaded with sweat. His breath was coming in short frantic gasps. He swallowed thickly. He grabbed a hold of Dean's bare shoulders.

"We have to help them."

"Who Sammy? Who?"

"They live in Ohio. We have to help them."

"Sam you aren't making sense." Sam gulped and gripped tighter.

"There isn't much time. We have to go. It's going to kill the child."

"Sam?"

"I saw it."

"What do you mean you saw it?"

"In my head. Like…like…." Sam was grasping for the right words.

"Like a vision?" Dean supplied. Sam's face crumpled slightly at the word.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Sam. It was just a bad dream. You've been having them a lot lately. Let's just go get you some warm milk and then put you back to bed."

"No!" Sam roared and then swayed a little. Dean steadied him with a hand. "No. I know it wasn't just a dream."

"How do you know that Sammy?"

"It's happened before."

"What are you talking about?"

"Right after you were injured and sleeping because Bobby drugged you." Dean sighed at that.

"Yeah?"

"I had one of these….visions." he seemed to choke on the last word. "And well, I didn't think anything of it, then I looked it up. It happened just as I saw it." Dean stood there stunned.

"So wait. You are telling me you have what? Like the Shining?"

"I guess. I don't know."

"Maybe the last time was just a coincidence." Dean said grasping at straws.

"It wasn't. Trust me."

"Sam.."

"Just trust me!" he yelled and scrambled to get his arms and legs coordinated enough to get up. Dean helped him rise. He took a start to the chest of drawers and then stopped, and started to sway. Dean held him steady, panic evident in his hands that were starting to sweat.

"Sammy. You aren't in any shape…"

"I'm fine Dean." He said and gripped his head and grimaced in pain.

"You are not fine."

"I'll be fine. These people won't. They need our help. They need us to save them."

"We aren't going to be able to help them Sammy. We don't have enough training…"

"Screw the training. We know enough. We have to help them."

"Why don't we call another.."

"No!" Sam yelled and flinched at the intensity in his own voice. He took a deep breath and did his best to focus his pain filled eyes on Dean's. "We have to go. No other hunter would understand Dean. We have to do this. We have to save this family." Dean searched his brother's hazel eyes and realized that Sam really believed what he said.

"Okay Sammy. Okay. Ohio right?"

"Right."

"Get dressed. I'll go tell Bobby." Sam nodded head swimming and body swaying. Dean pulled a shirt on and watched as Sam went into the bathroom. Dean allowed the terror to be shown on his face when the door closed. What in the hell was happening?


	34. Here We Go

"Bobby!" Dean yelled as he tromped down the stairs to where the older man was pouring himself over ancient books. "Bobby!" The old man looked up confused at the young man.

"What? What's the matter Dean?"

"There's a hunt in Ohio. Sam and I are gonna go."

"And, what? You two were up there researching possible leads instead of sleeping? What have I told you boys about getting a good nights sleep?"

"No. I was sleeping, and Sam had a nightmare, only it wasn't a nightmare…" Dean began pacing and he started speaking faster and faster. "He said it was a vision, I was like what the hell are you talking about, but then he's like he's had them before, and I asked how he knew it wasn't just some freaky dream, because I mean come on the stuff you've been having us read could induce nightmares in even the most level headed of people, and we all know that Sam is just a little off his rocker, it would figure that he would you know suffer more from this kind of stuff after reading the stuff we've been reading, but he's sure that it is a vision, because he said that he had one while I was laid up, and that he looked it up and found out that it was real, so he's positive that this one is real too, says it is some family in Ohio, so I told him we'd go check it out, we'll call you when we figure out what is going on, but I'm really sort of…"

"Nervous?"

"Yeah, I mean, are we ready for a hunt on our own? What does it mean if these visions come true? Does that mean that Sam is really tainted? Should we worry? Will he go evil? Is that even a possibility? What the hell Bobby?"

Bobby stayed silent. He wasn't sure if the tirade was over or just starting. Dean really could talk when he was scared. Bobby suddenly felt bad for any monster that came up and truly frightened this kid. Who needed rock salt and a gun when you had Dean Winchester's mouth? It took Bobby a second to realize that Dean was starring at him expectantly.

"What do you think Bobby?"

"Oh, so now you're talking to me? Not just at me?" Dean took a deep breath, his eyes wide and giving Bobby a stare that could have killed a lesser man. "I don't know what I think Dean. I think you two should follow this through. If it pans out to be legit, and the kid is starting to have psychic premonitions, we'll need to go through certain channels and see what exactly that means."

"Channels?"

"I have friends. We'll talk to them only after we figure out what this means exactly." Dean nodded, and Sam's big feet tromped down the stairs.

"You ready?" He asked looking harried, tired, scared, and above all in pain.

"You feeling okay enough to go?" Dean asked.

"Doesn't' matter. That innocent baby doesn't have time. We have to help her."

"Her?"

"The little girl. Come on Dean. I don't have time. WE don't' have time. She doesn't have time. Come on!"

"Sam!"

"We have to go. Trust me." Dean sighed and gave Bobby a weary glance and followed Sam to the door.

"Call me boys. Check in at least once a day."

"Okay. We will Bobby. I promise."

"Come on Dean." Sam called from inside the Impala. Dean gave Bobby one last glance and closed the door behind him. Bobby sank back down into his chair, threw his hat off and rubbed his face.

"John, it's happening. God. I hope Dean can save the boy." Bobby muttered to the long dead father of the Winchesters.


	35. Freak

The Impala drove up the long drive much slower than it had left it. Bobby watched the boys return from their excursion to Ohio. Dean mentioned when he called that they didn't save the girl. His voice sounded hollow and distant over the phone. The car barely rolled to a stop and Sam was out of it and brushing past Bobby and into the house. Dean slowly got out of the car, slammed the door, and moseyed up to Bobby and nodded.

"Bobby."

"Dean?" Dean shrugged.

"He's freaked, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"We got there just as she was blowing her own brains out of her head. Sam yelled, and yelled, on his way up the stairs, he was taking them fast Bobby, so fast that he stumbled a couple of times and I was afraid he was going to fall down the stairs, and we got into her room and she looked right at Sam and said 'I can't live like this' and pulled the trigger. She just did it." Dean shook his head and sighed. "Sam just sort of crumbled. He asked me why he was getting these visions if he wasn't going to be able to save the people from the horrible things that he saw. It really has him shook. I didn't know what to say to him."

"You're his brother. You'll find the right words."

"But I've only been his brother for a couple of months. I don't know what calms him down. I know what annoys him….I know some of the things he enjoys…but I don't know how to comfort him when something like this happens."

"I think you do."

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you Dean. But I've never seen two people act like you two."

"Two strangers who happen to share the same blood, you mean?"

"No. You two act like you've grown up together and grown up tight. You'll know what to do. Trust your instincts." Dean nodded and sighed. He went to the car and opened the back door and pulled out his bag. He turned and looked at Bobby with sad eyes.

"I don't like seeing him like this." Going around to the other side, he pulled Sam's bag out of the car and proceeded to go past Bobby and into the house.

"Neither do I boy." He sighed and followed the younger man inside the house.

Dean opened the door to their room, Sam was sitting on his bed, hands clasped in between his legs, head bowed watching the floor.

"Sam?" Dean questioned as he sat the bags down on his bed.

"Leave me alone."

"No." Dean said as he unzipped his bag and began to unpack the materials. "I think you need to tell me what is going through that freaky head of yours." He said without looking at him, and beginning to sort clothes based upon smell.

"I'm not a freak." Sam snapped.

"I never said you were."

"You said my freaking head."

"Yeah, well, all of us who went to Stanford are freakishly smart."

"Sure, yeah, that's what you meant. You aren't the one forced to endure death visions."

"True. But still, I can build an EMF detector out of an old walkman. I think that puts me into the freak category as well."

"Dean. I saw that woman die. I knew she was going to kill herself. I. SAW. IT. You can't tell me that doesn't freak you out." Dean stopped the sniff test and turned to his brother. Sam looked up at him, his eyes were tired, and they had a weight to them that they didn't have when they first met at Stanford, and Dean couldn't help but worry that he had caused some of that heaviness in the younger man.

Suddenly saddened, Dean turned away and not wanting Sam to see it, he turned back to the clothes he was sorting and said, "No, it does not freak me out."

"You can't even look at me when you lie to me." Sam said and stood up. "Even YOU think I'm a freak. God. Why is this happening to me?" he asked no one and everyone. "I could be back in Nebraska leading a normal, safe life. But no. I had to come with you to this freakish place and become a freak!" Sam said and tried to storm past Dean, but he caught him by the arm and spun him back to face him.

"Wait a second. Wait. You were the one gung ho about leaving school. You were the one that wanted to ride this wave. Do not blame me for your decision. You wanted this. I wanted this. We made this choice and now we have to live with the consequences." Dean's green eyes looked like they were on fire. Sam had never seen Dean look quite so fierce.

"But she died."

"I know that."

"But we are supposed to SAVE people."

"We can't save everyone Sam."

"Then why do I have these freaky powers, if I can't help them before it is too late?" Sam looked on the verge of tears. He was afraid, he was hurt and he was above all panicked.

"I don't know Sammy. I just don't know. But it isn't a reason to quit. If you don't want to hunt anymore, then I get it and that's fine. You can go back to Nebraska."

"You won't go back to Texas?"

"No. There will always be something to hunt."

"But she died."

"Doesn't mean that the next person will. Doesn't mean that I won't be able to save more than I lose."

"You really believe that?"

"I do. I feel like I've been given a job to do, and I intend to do it. I think this is what I'm supposed to be doing."

Sam froze and looked at his brother, searching for answers in his face. "You think so?"

"I do."

"Dean, I don't know…what if these get worse?"

"Then they get worse."

"I can't live like this."

"Then we'll find answers."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is that simple. Come on Sam. There is a whole world out there that says demons exist and werewolves, and all of this other weird crap that we've been told all of our lives that doesn't exist. So, whose to say that these visions can't be stopped, or maybe we can save these people, we just need to move faster, we will figure it out Sam. We will." Sam blinked a couple of times and nodded.

"So, uh, how are we deciding what needs to be washed?" Sam asked and moved away from his brother. "Smell?"

Dean cleared his throat and said, "Depends on how much laundry you want to do."

"Scent it is then." Sam said and opened his own duffel. The two, in unison, opened sorted clothes and pretended like neither of them was scared.


	36. Kids

All of his life, Sam had been normal, so normal that some of his friends had called him a freak, because he was so bland, so vanilla, so---so, ordinary. Today, however, he was up to his hip in some goo that was secreted by whatever this thing was they were hunting. He couldn't remember the name, Dean had done the research on this one, because he was still reeling from the massive headache that the last vision had given him.

Visions that was another big upset in his normal persona, one minute he could be walking around like a normal functioning human being and then BAM! People suffering and dying clouded his mind and his head pounded and pounded from the trauma. They had, of course, followed the vision, tried to save the people that were under threat, and this time, they had ALMOST saved them. But almost didn't help the family members who were left behind, the people Sam saw from a distance, as they headed out of town, sobbing at a funeral. And because he hadn't rested, like Dean ordered, his head was still foggy and this was a week later. What worried him was that another vision was just over the horizon and that was the real reason he was foggy. Dean, on the other hand, was convinced it was because he had had three visions within a matter of days and refused to take it easy.

Sam wondered if he was right as he was cutting up this large gooy thing that he didn't know the name of. Dean was on the other end of it, covered in the same slop cutting up the creature as well. Apparently it needed to be dismembered, and then salted and burned in order for it to be completely dead. In the three hours they had been slicing and hacking at this thing, it resuscitated long enough for Dean to pull his gun out of the waist band of his jeans and pump it full of silver bullets again. The sound of the gun going off ricocheted through his head, like a pin ball machine on crack.

"You okay?" Dean asked when he saw Sam's hand go to his head, never mind the slime that was covering it and now that was smearing on his forehead.

"Huh?"

"You okay?" Dean repeated slowing his work.

"Oh, yeah, I think I'm good."

"You getting another vision?"

"No. My head is still foggy from the last one." Dean sighed. No one had ever prepared him for this. Sure. Having a brother he got. He could figure out exactly how to hunt, he could understand the ins and outs of the lifestyle, but visions, death vision no less, he didn't understand, and what he didn't understand more than the visions, was why exactly his brother was singled out to receive them. What good was it doing? It wasn't like they were actually SAVING any of the people in his visions. The last one, they almost did, but Dean was starting to wonder if these visions were playing with them, like they knew they couldn't get there in time, and it would hurt them worse to know about these people dying via supernatural means, and not have enough time to get there and save them. It was most certainly taking a toll on him, but by the ashen color of Sam's skin and the tiredness in his eyes, Dean was fairly certain it was worse on him.

"After this, we need to go back to Bobby's—"

"And do what Dean?"

"You need to rest."

"I don't want to crawl back to Bobby after every single little headache. I'm fine." Sam hacked away at this monster a little more.

"Woah wait. We agreed when we started out this time, that if the fire got to hot we would go back to Bobby's."

"I just don't want to. I want to stay out in the field. I want to find whatever in the world is making me have these visions, I want to…"

"Want to what?" Dean probed. The monster tried to take another breath of life, Sam pulled his gun out and shot it, it stilled.

"I really just don't know Dean. I'm…"

"You have to be tired." He said and pulled a hunk out of the monster and threw it into the dismembered pile.

Sam nodded and threw a piece into the pile as well. "I am."

"I told you that you should have rested after our last hunt."

"Yeah, and miss all of this fun? Seriously Dean, people were dying here. We were able to save them this time. Evil doesn't stop just because my head is foggy."

Dean sighed and ripped a piece of the monster off and threw it violently across the room. "Damnit Sam. You can't go into hunts "foggy"." Dean said using the quoty fingers and all. He went back to chipping away at the monster. "I cant' have you guarding my back and foggy at the same time."

"Well excuse me for wanting to save people."

"Sam." Dean said exasperated. "I'm your…" he stopped. He shook his head and went back to cutting.

"You're what?"

"Never mind. This argument goes nowhere every single time."

"That's right! That's because you aren't listening to me."

"I listen and I listen and you never say anything different. Sam. This crap has to freak you out." The monster began to stir again and without missing a beat, Dean pumped it full of silver again.

"It does freak me out, but what good is it going to do for me to go back to Bobby's and lick my wounds. I'm fine."

"No you aren't."

"Quit telling me how I feel, Dean." he said and managed to rip the thing's stomach in half. The stench made both men cringe and put their forearms over their noses.

"I'm not telling you squat." He said and continued to hack away. It tried to rise again and Sam pulled his gun and again put holes into it. "I just don't want you to keep moving when you are injured. I don't want this vision thing to whip your ass."

"I'm not going to let it."

"Fine. But I know this is bothering you and it…."

"If you tell me one more time that it's not my fault that these people die, I'm going to throw this knife at you, and I know how to aim for the heart now." Sam warned, eyes fierce. Both men stood and starred at each other. Then the monster moved. Both pulled their guns out and shot the thing.

"Good God. Just stay dead!" Dean said and put his gun up. He looked at Sam. "I'm still new to this whole being a brother thing…but I'm fairly certain that looking out for my younger sibling is what I am supposed to do….and I really don't like that you push yourself to this limit, I don't like it that you go into this hurt. You could get us hurt."

"I don't like that you go and drown yourself in alcohol but you do it."

"Hey, I don't go into a hunt drunk." He said pointedly using the knife for emphasis.

"No. But you go in cloudy, from a hangover. You can't tell me that that is any better or worse then what I am doing."

"Sam…."

"Dean…"

"Whatever."

"Whatever."

Sam sighed and looked down at the mutilated corpse. "I guess we should salt and burn it?" he asked.

"Yeah." And they did just that. They stayed until the thing was dust, gathered their supplies, and headed out to the car, silently.

Dean didn't go out that night, or indulge in their beer stash, and Sam went to bed early and Dean followed. "I'm new to this brother thing too." Sam said from the darkness. I'm not used to being looked after."

"Well get used to it." He sighed. "I'm afraid the gene is there and I don't know how to stop it."

"Yeah, well, you know, I don't know if the older sibling gene incudes keeping their traps shut about their own feelings, but if it does, then I'm fairly certain it is my job to make you talk. You can't just go get drunk." The quiet enveloped them, and when Dean's voice came out of the dark it startled both men and seemed to hover above the beds.

"But the last ones were kids."

"I know man. I know."


	37. Dr Elms

"Okay, so the obit says that they died how again?" Dean asked as the two walked to the table outside of the café.

"Well, the obit didn't say how they died, but the article did. The article said…" Sam took a drink of his coffee as he sat down. "Said that the couple died inside the house while the house was locked up tight, there was no sign of forced entry or anything."

"Haunting?"

"I'm thinking so."

"Is there a pattern?" Dean asked and took a sip of his coffee.

"I'm not sure. I think we need to go to the library today and do some research." Dean nodded and looked up at his brother.

"So, if there is a pattern…." He trailed off.

"What Dean?" Sam asked realizing that his brother was no longer looking at him but off in the distance over his shoulder. "What do you see Dean?" Sam asked immediately on point, immediately ready to pull the gun at the small of his back and do their job.

"What is he doing here?" Dean asked standing.

"Who Dean?" Sam asked and stood up as well.

"Dr. Elms."

"Dr. Elms?"

"Our Folk Lore teacher. Remember?" Sam shuddered. He did remember. That guy gave him the creeps.

"What is he doing out in Colorado?"

"That is a very good question." Dean was already moving in the man's direction.

"Dr. Elms?" The man turned and looked up at the brothers. He gave a small smile and Sam felt little ants crawling up and down his spine.

Dr. Elms smiled broadened as recognition set in and Sam actually took a small step back. "Aren't you two from that Folk Lore class I taught?"

"Yes, sir. Just wanted to come over and say hello. Wanted to thank you actually." Sam turned to Dean and tried not to look as completely and utterly confused as he felt at the second.

"Really? For what? Just taught a simple class. Not even a life altering class." Sam turned to Dean and hoped that he didn't look as eager for that answer as the professor did.

"For getting me and Sammy here together."

"You boys…?" he left it open. Sam's eyes widened.

"No. No. Not like that. What he means is, we found out we are brothers."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So thanks."

"Glad to be of service." The man said with a chilling smile.

"So, why are you all the way out here?" Sam asked casually.

"Got a job at the local university. Just needed a change of pace."

"Ahhh." Sam said and Dean nodded.

"What are you boys doing out here?"

"Road trip." They said simultaneously.

"We wanted to spend some time getting to know each other, and we thought that a trip around the country would be a good thing."

"Has it been?"

"Most definitely. We've learned we're stronger as a team."

"Oh really?" he asked.

"Really." Dean said. Sam realized that he had lost the point of the conversation, there seemed to be subtext here that he wasn't capable of understanding. "So, nice seeing you again." Dean said and he clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Come on brother, let's get out of here. Gotta go see that ball of twine you are constantly talking about."

"Yeah. Nice to see you again." Sam repeated.

"You too boys. You too." The professor said and watched the boys walk away.

"What in the hell was that all about Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"He isn't what he seems."

"What?"

"He's not human."

"How do you know that Dean?"

"I don't know. Why else would he be here?"

"He said that he changed universities."

"Come on Sam. You don't go from Ivy League to a state school. You just don't."

"I don't know Dean."

"I do. I just do. Let it at that. Just trust me."

"I trust you."

"Come on, we've got a hunt to finish, then I think we should head back to Bobby's. I don't think we're safe."

Dr. Elms watched the boys pack up and leave. So they knew, huh? They finally told the boys that they were brothers, finally told them of the prophecy? He suppressed a laugh. Oh this should make this game even more fun.


	38. Surrounding Evil

"So you have a weird feeling about this Dr. Elms guy?" Bobby asked when the boys sat down at the kitchen table.

"Dean seems to." Sam said and looked over to his brother and gave him a quizzical look. Since they had been hunting alone for a while now, Sam had gotten pretty good at reading Dean and sending him messages without any verbal communication. Bobby said once that the best con artists never had to say a word, that one look could encapsulate an entire conversation. Sam had objected to being called a con artist, that he was an honest person, a good person. Bobby didn't object to that, but he said that every hunter had to be a con artist or the civies would figure out what they were up to and stop them, or worse yet, call the funny farm.

It had happened so naturally that neither of them had really noticed, but they had become those con men, those brothers that could communicate a plan with just a flick of the eye and a twitch of the cheek. And right now, Sam wanted Dean to explain this feeling to Bobby, wanted him to explain it to him for that matter. Dean had been so silent on the way here, both verbally and nonverbally, he had been either unwilling or unable to explain his sudden decision that their former teacher was bad news.

"Dean?" Bobby prompted. Dean looked up. His eyes held confusion, panic and worry. Sam noted that straight off the bat and that made his stomach turn in knots. Sam hadn't known Dean for a very long time, but in the time that they had spent together, he never once looked afraid, he was always strong, willing to fight, willing to do what needed done, and to hell with the personal consequences. But tonight, tonight was different and that frightened Sam.

"I don't know." Dean said and looked down at the scarred table. "I feel like something is wrong. I can't pinpoint it. But there is something seriously wrong with this. I think he's a demon."

"You see anything?"

"See anything?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Black smoke, or uh, he freak out when you said the name of the lord, or did his eyes flash black? Yellow maybe?"

"No." Dean shook is head and ran a hand through his hair. "No, nothing like that. I just knew it. Knew it in my bones that this guy is evil, that he is after Sammy."

"What?" Sam perked up.

"He wants you Sammy."

"Because of the visions?"

"Maybe." Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I just feel." He leaned forward, clasped his hands, and rested them on the table and faced Sam, gave him his wide green eyes, and Sam began reading, reading the book that he had only just been given an encryption code to and he knew.

"You feel like it's after me because of what's inside of me."

"I guess. I feel like I have to protect you. Like I have to protect you with my life. That it is important that I keep you safe and out of harms way. Like it is the most important thing. The only thing. I cant' shake the feeling." Dean looked to Bobby, eyes imploring him to explain this feeling. Bobby sat starring. "I know in my gut Bobby that this thing was a demon. He wants my brother. I know it." He looked from Bobby to Sam and back again. "What do we do?"

Bobby ran a hand over his beard and rested against the back of his chair. Crossing his arms he shook his head. "The storm has been coming for years, and you and your brother are the eye of that storm. We've known that since you were 6 months old Sam, and Dean, we knew you were his protector from the moment we pulled Sam away from you and you screamed."

"I did a lot more than scream Bobby." Dean reminded.

"I know. Trust me son, I know." Sam looked from one to the other and wished that he could remember that time in his brother's life.

"So, is this the part of the prophecy where I go dark side?" Sam asked quietly.

"I don't know son. But I would suspect that the demons are after you to help your transition, and not to hand you a bouquet of flowers." Sam worried his lip and looked at Dean who looked worried.

"What do you think Dean?"

Dean stopped and thought, really thought about the whole thing, and all he could come back to was that he had to stop whatever it was and protect Sammy. Had to keep him safe. It was like a switch that had been flipped in his brain and just continuously ran the same information over and over again. Dean looked up at his brother, licked his lips and said, "We face whatever fugly bastard is coming after you, and we take it on together. You will not go dark side. I will not let it happen. Let the demon possessing Dr. Elms come, let him try to get you. It won't happen Sammy. It won't." Bobby nodded and slapped his palms against the table.

"Well then. That settles it. Let's get this place in shape. Let's make sure it is demon proofed. Sam, get the large book on the third book case in the living room. Come on Dean, let's salt the windows and doors."

"We need to leave one door unsalted." Dean said softly. An idea tickling the back of his mind.

"Why? Son, we don't want the demons in here."

"We need to let it in. We need it to be in here so we can trap it and kill it. So there won't be a threat to Sammy anymore." Dean's eyes were intense and boring into Bobby's soul. There would be no arguing. The pupil had surpassed being taught, he was no in the driver's seat, and he would not be challenged.


	39. Tremble

Sam was agitated the rest of the day. Dean's decision was probably sound, hell it made sense to a degree, but that didn't mean he wanted to be trapped in the house with demons, much less the demons that had tainted him all of those years ago.

They spent the afternoon looking for all of the protective sigils they could find, and making sure that the house was fortified. Sam entered the living room where Dean was drawing ancient devil's traps on the floor, and set down the candles that Dean had requested.

"I don't like this Dean."

"Shut up Sam. I've heard it all before. This is the only way to get them. Bobby even agrees. We can't let them get the drop on us, because if they do, then we're screwed. We have to have defenses and preventative measures in place to be able to defeat them."

"But what if something, like an unknown variable steps in and screws up our best laid plans."

"What sort of variable could come in here Sam? It's not like we aren't prepared, or don't what demons are and what they do."

"I don't mean the demons Dean." Dean sighed and turned to look at his little brother.

"Then what do you mean?"

"Me."

"You?"

"Yeah."

"You aren't an unknown variable Sam. I know you. Bobby knows you, we know what you are capable of doing. That makes you an asset not a variable." Dean said with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

"No, Dean. No. That's not what I mean. I mean, I have demon blood in me. What if…what if." Sam licked his lips and sat on the arm of the couch. "What if they are able to just flip switches in me?" Sam rubbed his hands together. "What if they are able to control me because of the blood?"

"Sam they can't do that."

"You don't know that Dean."

"They can't."

"Dean. We have to be realistic here. We can't just bank on faith and say that they aren't after me, not to kill me, but to use me. What if they want to use me against you, or…or Bobby? What if they can make me do awful things Dean?"

"They won't. I won't let them."

"But…it's only you. You don't have any special powers. You aren't anything supernaturally special. You're just one man Dean. One man made of flesh and bone, one that can be taken out with the right hit to the spine. Dean, I don't know. I don't know if this is a good idea." Dean stood and went to his little brother. He waited until Sam looked up at him.

"You trust me?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

"You trust me to do what I have to do to keep you safe?"

"Yes."

"Then this discussion is over. Go get the herbs that Bobby is grinding." Sam nodded and started for the door.

"Thanks Dean." He said and closed it behind him. That's when Dean allowed his breath to come quicker. He had never thought of the demons being able to use Sam against them, never thought that they could use the blood as a trigger. He looked down at the devil's trap he had been constructing and threw the chalk across the room. He rested his head on his knees and sighed.

"God if you're listening. Please help us." He mumbled and for the first time since he realized that the demons were out for his little brother, he allowed himself to tremble.


	40. Captured

Demons must have sensed that they were up to something, because it wasn't long after Dean had finished the last devil's trap that the demons came a knocking. They didn't come knocking quietly either. The first demon busted down the door. The demon was encased in a girl, a pretty girl under any other circumstances, but with a demon filling her eyes, Dean saw no trace of beauty or innocence left in the girl. Dean calmly stood from his crouched position, holding his gun up in the ready position. He moved to cover his little brother who was just behind him lighting candles for the ritual they hoped if nothing else would provide a distraction and give them an out or an opportunity to trap and take out the demon possessing the girl.

She turned slowly to face Dean, and by proxy Sam. Dean felt Bobby in the kitchen, knew that he was serving as back up in the other room.

"There you are." She said with an evil smile.

"You looking for me?" Dean said in his best Clint Eastwood tough as nails voice.

"Not you exactly, but you'll do." Dean held the gun a little higher and she stopped and smiled. "Oh come on. I heard that you were better than this. It's in your blood after all." She laughed. Dean's grip on the shotgun tightened and his jaw clenched.

"What are you talking about?"

"You and that brother of yours are important to both sides."

"Both sides?"

"Oh, come on Dean, you didn't really think that there was only one side of this problem gunning for you." Actually Dean, Sam AND Bobby had been under the impression that there was just one faction, the demons, and they were after Sam, for what reason they were unsure, but they knew that they were coming after the youngest Winchester. Dean did his best to regulate his breathing, he didn't want this chick to know that she caught him off guard.

"What do you want?"

"Oh silly silly boy, I just want the two of you. Both of you are the VIPs."

"We aren't going with you." Dean said sternly.

"Oh I think we can arrange for transport."

"We aren't going." Sam said more definitively.

"Oh, lookie there, big tall, strong Sammy Winchester is hiding behind his smaller, weaker big brother. You don't need to hide from us Sammy. We're your true family." She stepped closer and Dean pulled the trigger, he landed his shot in her chest and she merely looked down, sighed, shifted her weight and looked at Dean.

"Come on Dean. You can't protect your brother forever."

"I've only been on the detail for a little while, I think I've got years left in me."

She shook her head in annoyance. "You don't know what you are protecting do you? You have no idea what he really is. He's not human. He's one of us Dean Winchester. He's ours. We can do whatever we want with him."

"He is human. He's my brother. And you will not touch a hair on his head." Sam looked down at the top of his big brother's head and felt a small sense of relief wash over him. Dean knew all of the freaky things he could do with his mind, and if he could look someone else full in the face and tell them that he wasn't a freak, that meant Dean believed it and for some reason that comforted him more than the gun in his hand.

"We own him. We can do whatever we want with him." She looked up and met Sam's eyes. "You ready to come with us Sammy?"

"I'm not going with you anywhere."

"Why do you fight? We can make this really painful for you Sam. It would just be easier to come with us. No need for me to make that pretty face bleed."

"Then I guess I'll just have to bleed, because I refuse to become your bitch."

"Oh," she chuckled. "I'm not the one who you have to worry about. I'm simply the collector. And, if that's how you want to play the game then that's what we'll do." She said with a shrug and thrust her hand out and before Sam knew what he was about he was airborn and landing, hard, against the book case at the other end of the room. He blinked the stars from his eyes and he could barely make out the sound of Dean charging the demon head on, screaming, and shooting as he went.

Sam didn't remember much of the fight, all he remembered was someone coming up behind him and throwing him over their shoulder and running with him. Sam's brain was so fuzzy and his body so stunned that he didn't have any fight in him. The last thing he remembered hearing was Dean screaming "SAM!!" before he blacked out.


	41. Chapter 41

Dean watched Sam be thrown against the wall, watched him be picked up by the demon and watched as his brother fell into unconsciousness and be carried towards the door, and there was simply nothing he could do about it. Just as easily as they threw Sam against the wall, they threw him up against one as well, but they made sure he stayed put, they pinned his arms against the wall with their metaphysical ties, and they didn't even allow him the ability to struggle. Everything but his head and neck were pinned. They wanted him to watch and feel helpless as they took what they wanted—Sam.

"See you round Dean." The demon smirked.

"Oh, you'll be seeing me sooner than you think you bitch."

"Sticks and stones, sticks and stones." The demon laughed as she disappeared with Sam. Dean screamed wordlessly, panic flowing through his body as adrenaline would if he were climbing a mountain. Every fiber of his being wanted to go after Sam, wanted to protect Sam, wanted to help Sam, but the demon had effectively eliminated that. The magic holding him back held him for a while after the demon left, and when the magic binding him released, Dean fell to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, and as soon as he could stand up straight he ran to the door, tripping and stumbling as he did so. When he finally threw the door opened he ran to the middle of the driveway of Singer Salvage and looked as far as he could, knowing in his heart that it didn't matter, they had Sam, and they weren't going to leave a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow.

Dean, determined and angry ran back inside with the sole purpose of getting his gun and his keys. To hell with breadcrumbs, he knew his brother, he could feel him, he knew that he was alive. He would follow his instincts, he would find him, he would save him. That was why he was on this earth after all, wasn't it?

Bobby, freed from his own kitchen prison, stood and watched Dea fly back into the house. "What happened boy?"

"They got Sam." Dean said with anger as he searched for the gun that he had had during the fight.

"How?"

"How in the hell should I know? You're the expert in the supernatural! You tell me!"

"Hold your horses boy. No need to yell."

"My brother's been captured by demons, and you want me to calm down? You want me to stop yelling?"

"Dean. We need to think rationally about this."

"To hell with that." Dean said and swayed and started towards the door, gun in hand.

"Dean. You can't just go out there half cocked and find Sam." Dean's whole body quivered with energy. He simply wanted to kick the ass of anyone or anything that he could get his hands on. Researching was not at the top of his priority list.

"I can find him on my own."

"With what? You attach a GPS to his ass when I wasn't looking or something?" Dean stood there fairly thrumming with energy and anger. "I didn't think so. We need to do this in a rational manner Dean, or we won't find him." _And he'll be dead_. Hung in the air, and that soured Dean's stomach. His eyes snapped once and he squared his shoulders.

"Then let's get busy. We have to find Sam, before they do damage to him that can't be undone." Dean said finally and started for the kitchen. Bobby blew air out and sagged. For a second there he had been afraid that Dean wouldn't listen.

SNSNSNSNS

Sam awoke in stages, first his ears began to hear the thrumming of unused energy, his nose smelled the sulfur smell pouring off of the balls of energy, then his sense of touch came to and he felt the ropes around his wrists, and the splintery wood underneath his hands, and finally his eyes opened, and he looked up and as they came into focus a woman with pitch black eyes stood in front of him.

"Good. You're awake." She laughed.

"What do you want?"

"I just want to borrow your body." Sam laughed.

"You really think my brother and I were dumb enough to not get protection tattoos?"

"I think that it doesn't matter if you had one tattooed on your forehead. They are easy to destroy." She pulled a knife out of her boot, it seemed to go on forever, the blade long and sharp and shiny enough to catch the dull light coming from the ceiling.

She stalked over to him and ripped open his shirt and she took the blade and sliced the tattoo and Sam screamed. She covered his mouth with hers in what appeared to be a perverted kiss, and the demon transferred from one to the other.

Sam blinked, hazel turning to black, and his mouth turned up into a smirk that had nothing to do with sweetness or kindness, and all to do with hate and evil. The demon flexed its new fingers and relished in the feel of pure male strength.

His former host was beginning to wake up, and she scrambled from her position on the floor and began to weep. He made a stride towards her and as he did he picked up the knife he had used to rip the tattoo and in one swift motion he had the woman by the throat and sliced it from one ear to the other in less than a second, and he made sure to allow the blood to pool and then discarded the woman like she was a rag doll.

It was time to contact his master and await further orders.

Sam, awake, and trapped in his own mind screamed.


	42. Chapter 42

"Damnit Bobby!" Dean slapped the table with his palm, beer bottles rattled, and the book in front of Bobby jumped in its spot. Bobby looked up and held in a sigh. This boy was more impatient than any human being he'd ever met, and he'd met plenty of shoot first ask questions later types of hunters. Dean pushed his hair away from his face and began to pace. "It's been two days, and while I'm all for calling every freaking hunter known to God, we aren't any closer to finding Sam right this second then we were after they snatched him!"

"This isn't something that you rush into."

"They are probably torturing him right now Bobby, trying to get him to go dark side so he can fulfill their stupid prophesy. I promised that I would take care of him, protect him." Dean stopped pacing and starred out of the window. "I failed him." He said softly. "I haven't been on the job a year and I've failed."

"Dean." Bobby tried.

"Forget it. Let's get back to work." Dean sat back down and flipped through the book a little while longer. His thought centered around the demon taking his brother away, unconscious and hurt. Then an idea hit him.

"Bobby? What if they are trying to possess him?"

"He has the tattoo."

"But that is surface only. What if they break it, like they can break a devil's trap line with cracking the foundation…if they cut a line in the skin, they break the protection. What if they want to possess him because they can't get him to turn dark side with me in their way, and they've tried to kill me, they've tried all of that crap. But, what if…."

"That's a good idea."

"But that still doesn't solve the where's Sam question." Dean said as he deflated.

"We have every eye and ear on the problem Dean. We'll find him." Bobby promised for the thousandth time since Sam disappearance, and this time like all of the others, he hoped to God it was true.

SNSNSNSNSN

Any demon worth his sulfur knew that Dean Winchester wouldn't just let his little Sammy out of his sight, much less when a demon had come and snatched his little brother right out from underneath his nose. And that was exactly what Azazel was banking on.

The humans thought they had all of the prophesy, they thought they knew what the grand plan was, and while they did know some of it, they didn't know the whole of it. And to be honest, some of what the demons had let the humans find out had been half truths. Sure, the younger would have to kill the older…that is if they couldn't get the younger to convince the elder to join forces with him. They neglected to tell them that they were both supposed to rule hell together. These two were of the line of Cain and Able, they were very important to heaven and hell, and heaven had ruled both of their lives up until this point, and now, now, with Sam gone, Dean would give anything to have his little brother back.

Dean was truly the key to the whole plot. Dean was the one they had to turn to the dark side, he was the one they had to lure into the misstep, and Dean by design was going to be a hard nut to crack. Azazel had tried to come to Dean as a baby and bleed into his mouth and plant the seed of darkness, but it was never possible, and then when the younger was born, they knew how to get to the older. But he too was protected, but the deed needed to be done despite interruption.

Human behavior being unpredictable as it is, caused the boys to be separated and thrust even further into the light than they would have been had they stayed together. Orchestrating their lives so they came together at an appropriate age was difficult, but it wasn't anything a few simple possessions couldn't make happen.

So, here it was, two days from kidnapping, and the demon possessing Sam sat at a café and drank a mocha latté and waited, five days seemed like enough time to make Dean sufficiently desperate and more likely to make a mistake.

The demon smiled, yes, this little plan was working out rather nicely.


	43. Chapter 43

AN: I first want to thank everyone for following this story so long, and I want to apologize for the long periods between updates, but I needed to see where Kripke was going in order to finish properly. Now, this isn't the last chapter, it is the next to the last. I will wrap everything up in the next chapter. I hope you like. WARNING: Character Death.

* * *

Patience wasn't one of the virtues demon's possessed, and when Dean hadn't shown himself after the allotted 5 days, the demon grew restless and aggravated. So, the demon possessing Sam took matters into his own hands and went after the nearest hunter. Hunters were never quite as difficult to find as they thought they were. All a demon needed to do was sniff them out, they all smelled the same-death, guns, and burnt herbs-hunters were always cooking something up to kill something big bad and slimy, and they reeked of their toils.

The hunter that the demon possessing Sam found, Andrew Townsend, was perfect for the demon's plans. Andrew was a seasoned hunter with ties to Bobby Singer, the Winchester's mentor, and word of the hunter's death would get back exceptionally fast to Bobby and Dean, and then all the demon would have to do is wait, and Bobby and Dean would come right to him.

Andrew wasn't as easy to kill as the demon anticipated. The demon's meat suit took a bullet right to the heart before he was able to break the hunter's neck. The demon shrugged Sam's shoulders. It didn't matter, all that mattered to the demon was that he kill Dean Winchester and get his new meatsuit back to his lord, and all would be perfect. No one said that Sam had to be completely alive, he just had to be alive long enough to say the magic word. The magic word would come easier if Sam was on the edge of death, so it was a win win for the demon.

And it didn't take long at all. Dean Winchester was at the door of the abandoned home, that just felt like the right place to end Dean Winchester, in mere hours of word traveling that Andrew had been killed by a man who looked to be Dean's brother. Dean managed to kick in the door in one swift movement and barreled into the house, anger burning in his wild green eyes.

"Finally. I thought I was going to have send a personal invitation." In response all Dean did was cock the shot gun in his hands.

"All you'll manage to do with that toy is put holes into your new found baby brother." After a few moments thought Dean reluctantly lowered the gun and set it down on the floor. "Now, there you go, that is better."

"What do you want?" Dean growled.

"Really? You want to start this conversation this way? I haven't even had time to offer you a drink."

"Shove the smart ass comments. Give me my brother back."

"My my, you are awful attached and you haven't even known him for a whole year yet. Are you two MORE than just brothers?" The demon chuckled and took a seat on the desk that was behind him. Dean took a threatening step forward and Bobby put a hand on his shoulder.

"No boy, he wants you to come after him."

"Oh do listen to your handler boy. You must follow the straight and narrow. Follow orders like the good little soldier you are." Dean cocked his head. Those words felt odd. They felt like they should mean something.

"I'm no one's good little soldier."

The demon laughed and pretended to brush lint off of the jeans that he had clothed Sam in. "Come on Dean. Let's get this over with." The demon looked up and waved his hand and Dean went sailing, Bobby frantically tried to get the demon on the ground, he threw holy water at Sam and his face sizzled, and all that seemed to do was anger the demon further, and while Bobby had the demon distracted, Dean began to chant the exorcism. The demon struggled to stay inside of Sam's body, if he didn't stay, Sam would die, and then his lord wouldn't have his meatsuit, the war wouldn't be won, the war wouldn't even start, and it would be his fault, and when he got back down to hell Alistair would make him his personal project for centuries. So he held on with every fiber of his being. But he lost. He had to smoke out, he had to go to hell, he had spent too much time debating and lost his window for escape.

Sam's body fell to the floor in a crumpled mass. Dean ran to his little brother and rolled him over. Blood poured from Sam's chest. A scream caught in Dean's throat, and he put his hands on the wound. He tried to stop the blood from gushing. But he couldn't.

Sam struggled to look Dean in the eye, and when he finally caught Dean's eye he said, "Good this way. Can't come." Ragged breath. "Tell mom I love….sorry…Dean…" And his eyes lost the spirit behind them. Dean's blood ran cold, his mouth went dry. He looked at Bobby.

"No…no…no…no…" He laid his head down on Sam's chest listening for any signs of life. When he didn't find any, he began frantic CPR and Bobby heard Sam's ribs crack, and watched Dean begin to hyperventilate.

"Dean. Dean." Bobby put a hand on Dean's arm. "It's over son. He's gone. Andrew must have gotten a shot off."

"No. No. I just got him." Dean's voice was thin and strained, tears were already in a free flow down his freckled cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Bobby whispered, closed his eyes, and tried to remind himself that this wasn't his fault.


	44. Chapter 44

The official story was that Sam died in a mugging gone south. And the mourners came pouring in. Sam had quite a few friends from home, family everywhere, and the only person who never left the coffin's side was Dean. He stood there and kept a vigil over his fallen brother, and was heard occasionally to mutter "I should have been able to protect you. That's what big brothers do, we protect our younger brothers." But otherwise the young man stayed silent, as tears flowed down his chiseled features.

Bobby went outside to get some air, he couldn't look at the boy, just couldn't reconcile that he had been unable to do anything other than watch the boy die. He sighed and turned to head back into the funeral home when his cell phone rang. He looked at it, didn't recognize the number, and answered.

"Yeah?"

"Bobby?" Bobby's tension shot up a notch when he realized who was on the other line.

"John."

"He's dead?"

"Yes."

"Then it's been averted."

"You told me that the two of them together could take care of this son of a bitch who was going to bring on Armageddon. You promised…"

"It has been derailed. They did it."

"What in hells bells are you talking about? Sam is dead. He can't do anything to help Dean avert anything."

"Sam's death averted it."

Bobby's face went slack with realization. "You son of a bitch. You had me train them for nothing, you let that boy die."

"It was necessary."

"Dean…"

"Dean will be fine. He's strong. He's got good parents to watch him."

"John…"

"Good bye Bobby." The phone clicked. Bobby ran a hand down his face. How was he ever going to face Dean and Sam's parents again?

SNSNSNSN

John turned around and faced the angel and the demon in front of him. "It's done. I want my reward."

The British demon smiled and conferred with the angel. "Yes you did. You did exactly what we wanted you to do. So, yeah, here's your prize." The British demon clenched his hand and stopped John Winchester's heart. John crumpled to the floor and the demon brushed his hands down his pants.

"There. You see? That's how you take care of the Winchester problem." Castiel looked at the dead John Winchester, and for the first time, Dean's words sunk in. He had made a terrible mistake….but this mistake wasn't one that he could fix. They had changed the timeline, achieved the end result they had wanted. But there had been a significant cost. That cost tarnished his grace, and the man he had become under the Winchester's tutelage. Castiel turned his back and disappeared in a hush of wings.

THE END


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